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COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 



Modern Americans 

A Biographical School Reader 
for the Upper Grades 



By 

Chester M. Sanford 

Head of the Department of Expression 

Illinois State Normal University 

Grace A. Owen 

Teacher of Reading 
Illinois State Normal University 



LAUREL BOOK COMPANY 

New York CHICAGO Philadelphia 



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Copyright, 1918, 1921 

by 
Laurel Book Company 



0)C!.A624943 



INTRODUCTION 

"Tell us about real folks." This is the request that comes to us 
again and again from children in the upper grades. In response to 
this appeal, the authors, in preparing "Modem Americans," have 
attempted to give the pupils the worth-while things they like to 
read rather than the things adults think they ought to like. 

Those who have taught reading very long agree that the old- 
time hero stories have always had a peculiar charm for pupils. But 
all the heroes did not live in olden times; they are with us today. 
Why, then, isn't it well to acquaint the children with present-day 
heroes ? Young people in the upper grades are especially interested 
in the men and women who are actually doing things. They desire 
to study in school the persons they read about in the daily papers. 
Elihu Root recently said: "It seems sometimes as if our people were 
interested in nothing but personalities." 

To bridge the gap between our schools and practical everyday 
life has become one of the chief concerns of the wide-awake teacher. 
Accordingly, in geography we are studying the industries about us. 
In English, civics, and history we are devoting an increasing amount 
of time to a consideration of "Current Events." All this is in the 
right direction; for, to create an interest in the men and women of 
the hour and the social activities of the day makes for an intelligent 
citizenship. "Acquaint the people with the great men of any period 
and you have taught them the history of the period," says Carlyle. 
Know the past, if possible; know the present by all means. 

At first thought the reader may disagree with the authors in the 
list of characters chosen. He may think that many of America's 
greatest men and women have been omitted while others of less 
importance have been given a place. In reply permit us to say that 
greatness of achievement has not been the only consideration in 
choosing the character studies. Not all great men and women 

5 



6 MODERN AMERICANS 

have life stories that appeal to children, and unless the stories do 
appeal, it is better to omit them until the children are older. Then, 
too, it seemed desirable to select persons in various fields of himian 
activity, thus broadening the scope of the child's knowledge. 

The reader will observe that we have placed much stress upon 
the childhood experiences of the men and women studied, for the 
reason that children are to read the stories ; and since they are sure 
to interpret what they read in terms of their own experiences, we 
must, as far as possible, record experiences that are common to all, 
namely, childhood experiences. 

It is hoped that these stories have been so brought within the 
experiences of the pupils that they will be led to discuss them. Many 
of the stories were tried out with children in the University Train- 
ing School and the enthusiastic discussions that followed were both 
interesting and helpful. 

Lastly, and most important, the authors have attempted to in- 
spire the pupils with a purpose to make the most of themselves. 
The lives of great men and women are sure to be an inspiration to 
the young. Since great men stand for great things they are sure to 
embody the latest and best in science, art, government, religion, and 
education. By studying the lives of these representative men and 
women it is hoped that the pupils will be stimulated to lofty purposes. 

Acknowledgement is hereby made to The Bobbs-Merrill Co., 
publishers of Mr. Riley's poems, for kind permission to republish 
"The Old Swimmin'-Hole"; and also, to the publishers of "The 
Story of a Pioneer"— /ortfaw; "The Story of My Uie"— Keller; and 
the magazine "Success" for additional source material. 

Chester M. Sanford 

Grace A. Owen 



CONTENTS 

1 . Warren G. Harding - 9 

2. Thomas A. Edison 17 

3. Alexander Graham Bell. 29 

4. Theodore Roosevelt • 37 

5. John Pershing 43 

6. WilHam Howard Taft 51 

7. Luther Burbank 57 

8. Clara Barton 65 

9. George W. Goethals 73 

10. James Whitcomb Riley • • 81 

11. Helen Keller 9t 

12. Wilbur and Orville Wright 99' 

13. Robert E. Peary » 109^ 

14. William Jennings Bryan 117" 

15. Henry Ford 125 

16. Ben B. Lindsey • • 131 

17. Frances E. Willard 139 

18. Jane Addams • • - • 147 

19. John Mitchell .155 

20. Maude Ballington Booth 161 

21. AMdrew Carnegie 169 

22. Anna Shaw 177 

23. Ernest Thompson Seton • 187 

24. John Wanamaker. 195 

25. Woodrow Wilson 204 

26. Mark Twain 212 




© Baker Art Gallery. 

PRESIDENT WARREN G. HARDING 



WARREN G. HARDING 

On the Saturday morning after election day in 
November, 1920, a crowd of people stood waiting in the 
railway station in Marion, Ohio. They were there to say 
good-bye to President-elect and Mrs. Harding, who were 
starting on a vacation journey; for, after the stirring 
times of the long campaign, they needed rest. 

When the conductor of the train asked Mr. Harding 
if he should make fast time, the President-elect replied: 
*'Go slow; I have been going too fast for the past two 
weeks." 

It was not at all strange that so many should meet to 
say a fond farewell, for nearly everyone in Marion seems 
to like Mr. Harding. As we asked his fellow townsmen 
the reason for this affection, we were surprised that 
nearly all gave the same reason. They said: "We like 
him because he is genuine, frank, fair." "He is generous, 
considerate, and knows how to be a good neighbor." 
Indeed this spirit of neighborliness was shown clearly 
during the campaign preceding his election, when Mr. 
Harding decided to remain in Marion and meet his friends 
on the front porch of his own home. Because of this 
decision the Republican campaign of 1920 will long be 
known as "The Front Porch Campaign." To this front 
porch came many thousand men and women from every 
section of our broad land to meet Mr. and Mrs. Harding. 



10 MODEREN AMERICANS 

Had you been one of these pilgrims, you would have 
met a man over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a 
deep chest. Though he is not bald, his hair is excep- 
tionally gray for a man of his age. He has the rare 
faculty of making you comfortable in his presence. 
While, with his deep blue eyes, he looks you squarely in 
the face as he talks to you, his look is so kindly that you 
feel at ease. 

After this brief but delightful interview, you join an 
expectant multitude that has assembled on the lawn. 
Suddenly all eyes turn to the porch. Here stands Mr. 
Harding, gracious, dignified, serious. Breathlessly each 
awaits his first utternace. With a well modulated voice 
he addresses the multitude as he would speak to a group 
of friends. Soon you are listening as though he were 
speaking only to you. With no tendency to bicker he 
discusses the problems of government in a manner that 
reveals his clearness of vision and pureness of soul. All 
too soon the address is ended and the crowd begins to 
scatter. As each wends his way, the remark that is most 
frequently heard is this: "I like him and I'm sure we 
can trust him." 

Now that you have met him and heard him speak 
I am sure you will want to learn more about his life. 

On November second, in the year the great Civil War 
closed, Mr. Harding was born in Corsica, Ohio. How 
old, then, is he.? Most of his boyhood days, however, 
were spent in Caledonia, Ohio, where his father was the 



WARREN G. HARDING 11 

village Doctor. In addition to practicing medicine he 
owned the Caledonian Argus, a typical village news- 
paper. 

Since all boys of eleven must have at least a little 
spending money, Warren, as Mr. Harding was then called, 
found that setting type was his easiest way to earn pin 
money. 

The first year Warren worked on the Argus, the cir- 
cus came to town and brought Hi Henry's Band. Warren 
and another boy helped with unusual faithfulness and 
speed that day. They knew the paper had free tickets 
for the circus. Of course they would be given tickets. 
They planned what a glorious time they would have and, 
as long as the tickets did not cost anything, they could 
spend some of their hard earned money on side shows and 
ice cream. Noon came and no one had mentioned the 
circus tickets. The afternoon passed slowly; two o'clock, 
no tickets; three o'clock, no tickets; four, five, six o'clock, 
and no mention of the circus. Two indignant boys held 
counsel. Then as night fell, they went to the editor and 
demanded two tickets as their right. The tickets were 
forthcoming and two pleased boys went to the circus. 

Perhaps the glories of Hi Henry's Band aroused the 
citizens of Caledonia. At any rate a band of fifteen 
pieces was afterwards organized there. An old harness 
maker, who liked to have the boys play about his shop, 
was an expert on the valve trombone. He showed his 
frequent visitor, Warren Harding, how to play the instru- 



12 MODERN AMERICANS 

ment; then Warren learned the tenor horn and became a 
full-fledged member of the Caledonia Band. Only those 
of you who have lived in a small town can know how 
important the band is. It gives concerts in front of the 
court house or on the square. It plays at rallies, picnics, 
shows, and leads in parades. So when Warren Harding 
joined the Caledonia Band, he felt quite grown up and 
impressive, perhaps more so than when he was elected 
President. 

Not until 1882 did Dr. Harding trade his farm and 
move to Marion. His son had by that time been grad- 
uated from the Ohio Central College. Like many 
another young man of those days, he taught a term of 
school after leaving college. But he did not plan to 
remain a teacher. For a time he thought of the law as a 
profession, and also made some eff"orts to sell insurance. 
But his early knowledge of a printing oifice and the mak- 
ing of a newspaper influenced his tastes and desires. 

His father had acquired an interest in the Marion 
Star, a struggling Republican paper in the county seat. 
Warren Harding became the editor. He had held this 
office only two weeks when he went to Chicago to the 
Republican National Convention hoping to see James G. 
Blaine nominated for the Presidency. While he was in 
Chicago, his father sold the Star and so upon his return 
Warren Harding, a Republican, became a reporter on the 
Marion Mirror, the Democratic paper. 

In those days, the admirers of James G. Blaine wore 



WARREN G. HARDING 13 

high, gray felt hats. Warren Harding wore his when he 
went about Marion gathering news for the Democratic 
paper. Soon this annoyed the editor of the Mirror and 
young Harding was told he must stop wearing his"Blaine" 
hat. He refused, and so lost his job on the paper. 

The night of election day, when Cleveland was elected 
President, Warren Harding and two old Caledonia 
friends decided to buy the Marion Star. That was the 
beginning of an ownership that has lasted ever since. 
There were plenty of hard days for the young editor but 
with prophetic insight he wrote and published in the Star: 

"The Star is not going to change hands but is both 
going to go and grow." 

Friends laugh and joke about the hard struggles of 
the Marion Star and the difficulties of the editor to make 
the paper go. They tell of times when Editor Harding 
didn't have money enough to pay the help. Neverthe- 
less, he made the paper both go and grow, and these hard- 
ships only endeared him the more to the citizens of 
Marion. In the end he overcame all difficulties and his 
fellow citizens felt proud of his success. 

Warren Harding had a strong sense of fairness and just- 
ice. When he had been editor but a short time, he wrote 
out his newspaper creed. Today, any reporter, who 
enters the service of the Marion Star, has given to him 
the following rules, which the President of our Country 
believes should be followed : 



14 MODERN AMERICANS 



NEWSPAPER CREED 

Remember there are two sides to every question. Get 
them both. 

Be truthful. Get the facts. 

Mistakes are inevitable, but strive for accuracy. I would 
rather have one story exactly right than a hundred half 
wrong. 

Be decent, be fair, be generous. • 

Boost — don't knock. 

There's good in ever\^body. Bring out the good in every- 
body and never needlessly hurt the feelings of anybody. 

In reporting a political gathering, give the facts, tell the 
story as it is, not as you would like to have it. Treat all 
parties alike. 

If there's any politics to be played we will play it in our 
editorial columns. 

Treat all religious matters reverently. 

If it can possibly be avoided, never bring ignominy to an 
innocent man or child in telling of the misfortimes or mis- 
deeds of a relative. 

Don't wait to be asked, but do it without asking, and 
above all, be clean and never let a dirty word or suggestive 
story get into type. 

I want this paper so conducted that it can go into any 
home without destroying the innocence of any child. 

Warren Harding. 



WARREN G. HARDING IS 

Thus we see that President Harding has spent most 
of his Hfe in newspaper work. Here, as we can readily 
see, he has gained the intimate knowledge of people that 
has made him genuinely human. 

But his training for the Presidency by no means 
stopped here. For twenty years he has taken an active 
part in the problems of State and Nation. When only 
thirty-five years of age he was elected a member of the 
Ohio Legislature. As a member of this body, his efforts 
were so successful and so thoroughly appreciated that he 
was later chosen to represent Ohio in the United States 
Senate. In this strategic position he did not lose an 
opportunity to acquaint himself with the complex prob- 
lems of National Government. Little did he then realize 
that all this knowledge was fitting him to become the 
Head of the Nation. Such is the mystery of life. 

"A large upstanding man. A man of great virility. 
A man of undoubted courage. An honest man, honest 
with himself and with the public. A man of good judg- 
ment and entire practicality. A generous, kind-hearted, 
and thoughtful man. Thoughtful of his subordinates, 
generous to his adversaries, and cordial to his equals. 
A man whose head has not been turned by the honors 
thrust upon him. A plain, every-day, practical man 
without illusions or visionary ideas. A man that is a 
supporter of stable government. A man intensely 
American in his instinct." 




Photograph from Underwood tf Underwood, N, F. 



THOMAS A. EDISON (On left) 
The Greatest Inventor of All Time 



THOMAS A. EDISON 

Suppose the Pilgrim fathers that landed at Plymouth 
Rock so many, many years ago should come back to 
earth, how many strange sights would greet them! No 
longer would they be permitted to ride in a slow, clumsy 
wagon, but, instead, would ride in an electric car. 
Furthermore, when night came, instead of the tallow 
candle, they would marvel at the brilliant electric lights. 
Wouldn't it be fun to start the phonograph and watch 
them stare in astonishment as "the wooden box" talked 
to them.? But the most fun would be to take them to- 
the moving picture show and hear what they would say.. 
Odd as it seems at first, all these marvelous inventions,, 
and many others, are the result of one man's work; in 
fact, this man has thought out so many marvelous inven- 
tions that the whole world agrees that he is the greatest 
inventor that has ever lived. Should you like to hear 
the life story of one who is so truly great.? I am sure you 
would, for in the best sense he is a self-made American. 

But, you ask, what is a self-made American.? He is 
one born in poverty who has had to struggle hard for 
everything he has ever had; one who has had to force his 
way to success through all sorts of obstacles. 

This great inventor first saw the light of day in the 
humble home of a poor laboring man who lived in Milan, 
a small canal town in the state of Ohio. In 1854 when 
Thomas A. Edison, for that is his name, was seven years 

17 



18 MODERN AMERICANS 

of age, his parents moved to Port Huron, Michigan, where 
most of his boyhood days were spent. 

As we should naturally expect, Thomas was sent to 
school, but his teachers did not understand him and his 
progress was very poor. Finally his mother took him 
out of school and taught him herself. This she was able 
to do, for, before she married, she was a successful school 
teacher in Canada. 

Later in life, in speaking of his mother, he said : "I was 
always a careless boy, and with a mother of different 
mental caliber I should have probably turned out badly. 
But her firmness, her sweetness, her goodness, were potent 
powers to keep me in the right path. I remember I 
never used to be able to get along at school. I don't 
know why it was, but I was always at the foot of the 
class. I used to feel that my teachers never sympathized 
with me, and that my father thought that I was stupid, 
and at last I almost decided that I must really be a dunce. 
My mother was always kind, always sympathetic, and 
she never misunderstood or misjudged me. My mother 
was the making of me. She was so true, so sure of me; 
and I felt I had someone to live for, some one I must not 
disappoint. The memory of her will always be a bless- 
ing to me." 

When young Edison was twelve years of age, he be- 
came a newsboy on the Grand Trunk Railroad. That he 
was a wide-awake, energetic lad is shown by the follow- 
ing experience as told by himself. 



THOMAS A. EDISON 19 

"At the beginning of the Civil War I was slaving late 
and early at selling papers; but to tell the truth I was not 
making a fortune. I worked on so small a margin that I 
had to be mighty careful not to overload myself with 
papers that I could not sell. On the other hand, I could 
not afford to carry so few that I found myself sold out 
long before the end of the trip. To enable myself to hit 
the happy mean, I found a plan which turned out admir- 
ably. I made a friend of one of the compositors of the 
Free Press office, and persuaded him to show me every 
day a galley-proof of the most important news articles, 
"^rom a study of its head-lines, I soon learned to gauge 
'~e value of the day's news and its selling capacity, so 
at I could form a tolerably correct estimate of the num- 
r of papers I should need. As a rule I could dispose of 
' out two hundred; but if there was any special news 
rem the seat of war, the sale ran up to three hundred or 
over. 

"Well, one day my compositor brought me a proof- 
slip of which nearly the whole was taken up with a gigantic 
display head. It was the first report of the battle of 
Pittsburgh Landing — afterward called Shiloh, you know, 
and it gave the number of killed and wounded as sixty 
thousand men. 

"I grasped the situation at once. Here was a chance 
for enormous sales, if only the people along the line could 
know what had happened! If only they could see the 
proof-slip I was then reading! Suddenly an idea occurred 



20 MODERN AMERICANS 

to me. I rushed off to the telegraph operator and gravely 
made a proposition to him which he received just as 
gravely. He, on his part, was to wire to each of the 
principal stations on our route, asking the station-master 
to chalk up on the bulletin-board, used for announcing 
the time of arrival and departure of trains, the news of 
the great battle, with its accompanying slaughter. This 
he was to do at once, while I, in return, agreed to supply 
him with current literature for nothing during the next 
six months from that date. 

"This bargain struck, I began to bethink me how I 
was to get enough papers to make the grand coup I 
intended. I had very little cash, and, I feared, still less 
credit. I went to the superintendent of the delivery 
department, and preferred a modest request for one 
thousand copies of the Free Press on trust. I was not 
much surprised when my request was curtly and gruffly 
refused. In those days, though, I was a pretty cheeky 
boy and I felt desperate, for I saw a small fortune in 
prospect if my telegraph operator had kept his word, a 
point on which I was still a trifle doubtful. Nerving 
myself for a great stroke, I marched up stairs into the 
office of Wilbur F. Story himself and asked to see 
him. I told him who I was and that I wanted fif- 
teen hundred copies of the paper on credit. The tall, 
thin, dark-eyed man stared at me for a moment and 
then scratched a few words on a slip of paper. 'Take 
that down stairs,' said he, 'and you will get what you 



THOMAS A. EDISON 21 

want.' And so I did. Then I felt happier than I 
have ever felt since. 

"I took my fifteen hundred papers, got three boys to 
help me fold them, and mounted the train all agog to 
find out whether the telegraph operator had kept his 
word. At the town where our first stop was made I 
usually sold two papers. As the train swung into that 
station I looked ahead and thought there must be a riot 
going on. A big crowd filled the platform and as the 
train drew up I began to realize that they wanted my 
papers. Before we left, I had sold a hundred or two at 
five cents each. At the next station the place was fairly 
black with people. I raised the *ante' and sold three 
hundred papers at ten cents each. So it went on until 
Port Huron was reached. Then I transferred my remain- 
ing stock to the wagon, which always waited for me there, 
hired a small boy to sit on the pile of papers in the back, 
so as to prevent any pilfering, and sold out every paper 
I had at a quarter of a dollar or more per copy. I remem- 
ber I passed a church full of worshippers, and stopped to 
yell out my news. In ten seconds there was not a soul 
left in the meeting, all of the audience, including the 
parson, were clustered around me, bidding against each 
other for copies of the precious paper." 

Though, as you will admit, Mr. Edison was a very 
successful newsboy, he was not satisfied merely to sell 
papers, so at the age of fifteen he began editing and pub- 
lishing a paper of his own. To do this he purchased a 



22 IVIODERN AMERICANS 

small hand printing press and fitted out, as best he could, 
a printing office in an old freight car. 

The Grand Trunk Herald, as the paper was called, 
consisted of a single sheet printed on both sides, and sold 
for eight cents a month. When the paper was at the 
height of its popularity he sold five hundred copies each 
week, and realized a profit of forty-five dollars a month. 

He might have continued in editorial work had not 
a sad mishap overtaken him. In addition to his editorial 
work he performed many experiments, for his was the 
soul of the inventor. These experiments were performed 
in the baggage car of the train. One day, as he was in 
uhe midst of one of these experiments, a sudden lurch of 
the train upset his bottle of phosphorous, setting the 
baggage car on fire. The conductor, a quick-tempered 
man, after putting out the fire, dumped young Edison's 
precious printing press and apparatus out of the car and 
went on. This was a very sad experience for the lad^ 
but the saddest part was the fact that, as the conductor 
threw Edison out he boxed his ears so severely that he 
was partially deaf ever after. 

Now that young Edison had lost his job as newsboy, 
and could no longer print the Grand Trunk Herald, what 
was he to do.^ He decided, if possible, to get a position as 
telegraph operator. But- you ask, how did he learn to 
be a telegraph operator.^ 

While yet a newsboy, he had saved the life of a chile 
by snatching it from before a rnoving train. The father. 



THOMAS A. EDISON 23 

a telegraph operator, was so grateful to young Edison for 
saving his child that he offered to teach him telegraphy. 
This offer the lad eagerly accepted, and devoted every 
spare minute to his new task. From the first his progress 
was rapid, and when he lost his job as newsboy he applied 
for a position as telegraph operator and was given a job 
as night operator at Stratford Junction, Canada, at a 
salary of twenty -live dollars a month. He was now 
sixteen years of age. 

Within a very few years Edison became a swift and 
competent operator, as the following incident will show. 
"Edison had been promised employment in the Boston 
office. The weather was quite cold, and his peculiar 
dress, topped with a slouchy broad-brimmed hat, made 
something of a sensation. But Edison then cared as 
little for dress as he does today. So one raw, wet day a 
tall man with a limp, wet duster clinging to his legs, 
stalked into the superintendent's room and said: 

" 'Here I am'. 

"The superintendent eyed him from head to foot, 
and said: 

"'Who are you.?' 

"'Tom Edison.' 

" 'And who on earth might Tom Edison be?' 

"The young man explained that he had been ordered 
to report at the Boston office, and was finally told to sit 
down in the operating room, where his advent created 
much merriment. The operators made fun of him loudly 



24 MODERN AMERICANS 

enough for him to hear. He didn't care. A few minutes 
later a New York operator, noted for his swiftness, called 
up the Boston office. There was no one at liberty. 

"'Well,' said the office chief, 'let the new man try him.' 

"Edison sat down and for four hours and a half wrote 
out messages in his clear round hand, stuck a date and 
number on them, and threw them on the floor for the 
office boy to pick up. The time he took in numbering 
and dating the sheets were the only seconds he was not 
writing out transmitted words. Faster and faster ticked 
the instrument, and faster and faster went Edison's 
fingers, until the rapidity with which the messages came 
tumbling on the floor attracted the attention of the 
other operators, who, when their work was done, gath- 
ered around to witness the spectacle. At the close of 
the four and a half hours' work there flashed from New 
York the salutation: 

" 'Hello!' 

" 'Hello yourself!' ticked Edison. 

*' 'Who are you ?' rattled into the Boston office. 

*' 'Tom Edison.' 

" 'You are the first man in the country', ticked in the 
instrument, 'that could ever take me at my fastest, and 
the only one who could ever sit at the other end of my 
wire for more than two hours and a half. I'm proud to 
know you.' " 

While employed as telegraph operator Edison's in- 
ventive mind was hard at work. Accordingly, when but 



THOMAS A. EDISON 25 

seventeen years of age he invented the Duplex telegraph 
which made it possible "to send two messages in opposite 
directions on the same wire at the same time, without 
causing any confusion." 

Though a brilliant operator, young Edison found it 
difficult to hold a job, as he was always neglecting his 
regular work to "fool with experiments," as his employers 
put it. 

Accordingly, when twenty-one years of age, he found 
himself in New York City seeking work. Suppose we in- 
vite Mr. Edison to tell us of this dramatic period of his life. 

"On the third day after my arrival, while sitting in 
the office of the Laws Gold Repeating Telegraph Com- 
pany, the complicated general instrument for sending 
messages on all the lines suddenly came to a stop with 
a crash. Within two minutes over three hundred boys, — 
a boy from every broker in the street, rushed upstairs 
and crowded the long aisle and office that hardly had 
room for one hundred, all yelling that such and such 
a broker's wire was out of order and to fix it at once. 
It was pandemonium, and the man in charge became so 
excited that he lost control of all the knowledge he ever 
had. I went to the indicator and, having studied it thor- 
oughly, knew where the trouble ought to be, and found it." 

"One of the innumerable contact springs had broken 
off and had fallen down between the two gear wheels and 
stopped the instrument; but it was not very noticeable. 
As I went out to tell the man in charge what the matter 



26 MODERN AMERICANS 

was, George Laws, the Inventor of the system, appeared 
on the scene, the most excited person I had seen. He 
demanded of the man the cause of the trouble, but the 
man was speechless. I ventured to say that I knew 
what the trouble was, and he said, 'Fix it! Fix it! Be 
quick!' I removed the spring and set the contact wheels 
at zero; and the line, battery, and inspecting men scat- 
tered through thefiixancial district to set the instruments. 
In about two hours, things were working again. Mr. 
Laws came to ask my name and what I was doing. I 
told him and he asked me to come to his private office 
the following day. He asked me a great many questions 
about the instruments and his system, and I showed him 
how he could simplify things generally. He then re- 
quested that I should come next day. On arrival, he 
stated at once that he had decided to put me in charge 
of the whole plant, and that my salary would be three 
hundred dollars a month." 

"This was such a violent jump from anything I had 
ever seen before, that it rather paralyzed me for a while. 
I thought it was too much to be lasting; but I determined 
to try and live up to that salary if twenty hours a day of 
hard work would do it." 

It is needless to say that he made good in the biggest 
and best sense of the word. 

It was at this time that Mr. Edison, nov/ twenty-one 
years of age, invented an electric stock ticker for which 
he received forty thousand dollars. 



THOMAS A. EDISON 27 

Always desiring to devote his entire time to inventive 
work, he now saw that with the aid of his forty thousand 
dollars it was possible to do so. Accordingly, a little 
later we see him constructing a laboratory one hundred 
feet long at Menlo Park, a little station twenty-five miles 
from Newark, New Jersey. Here for years, in company 
with his assistants, he has made inventions that have 
revolutionized the world. 

Finally, in 1886, his business had so seriously out- 
grown his quarters that he built his present laboratories 
at Orange, New Jersey. These laboratories are now 
housed in two beautiful, four story brick buildings each 
sixty feet wade by one hundred feet long. In addition 
to these laboratories there are Edison factories located 
in various sections of the country. 

Though now seventy years of age, he is devoting all 
his time and the time of his laboratory force in solving 
the great problems connected with the present war. 



"^ tool is but the extension of a man' s hand, and a ma- 
chine is but a complete tool. And he that invents a machine 
augments the power of a man and the well being of man- 
kind. ^^ — Henry Ward Beecher. 




Photograph from Und rwood &* Underwood, N. F. 



ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL 

Inventor of the Te.ephone 



ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL 

There is in New York City a great building seven 
hundred and fifty feet high. It has fifty-three stories^ 
and provides business homes for ten thousand persons. 

If you had watched it rise from story to story, you 
would have been amazed at the tons of cable running 
from the basement towards the roof. You would have 
exclaimed in wonder over the miles upon miles of wire 
that extended from room to room. Suppose you had 
asked the purpose of these wires and cables. Do you 
know what the answer would have been? You would 
have been told that they wxre placed there so a person 
in any room of the building could talk to some one in any 
other room within the towering walls; to any one outside 
in the great city, and even to persons far away in Chicago 
and St. Louis. Then you would have said, "Of course, 
they are telephone wires." 

You use the telephone often, do you not.^ Probably 
if you were asked to say how many times you had talked 
over the telephone in your life, you would have to reply, 
"More than I can remember." 

Let us think about the messages we send along the tele- 
phone wires from day to day. They are for the most part 
of two kinds. We have friendly talks with persons we know 
well, and we give brief business orders at office and shop. 

But if we were gunners in the army of our country we 
should be told by telephone just when, where, and how 



29 



30 MODERN AMERICANS 

we were to fire our guns. We would not see our target, 
but would shoot according to the directions of a com- 
manding officer who knows what must be done and 
telephones his orders to us. 

If we were acting with hundreds of persons in a great 
scene for a motion picture film, we should be told what 
to do by a man called the director. He could not make 
us all hear if we were out of doors and scattered about 
in groups, but he would telephone orders to his helpers. 
One of these would be with each large crowd of actors. 
Perhaps the telephones would be hanging on the side of 
a tree or set up in rude fashion on a box. Nevertheless, 
that would not interfere with their use and we should 
receive directions over them to do our part in the scene 
then being photographed. 

These uses seem wonderful to us, but each year sees 
the telephone helping man more and more in strange and 
powerful ways. It is likely that we have just begun to 
know a little of what this great invention can do for us. 

However, if we had been boys and girls in 1875 we 
should have known nothing about talking over a tele- 
phone, for that was the year when the public first heard 
that it was possible to send sounds of the human voice 
along a wire from one place to another. 

There was a great fair in 1876. It was held in Phil- 
adelphia and was called the Centennial because it cele- 
brated the one-hundredth birthday of our land. Persons 
came from foreign countries to attend the fair. Among 



ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL 31 

these visitors was a famous Brazilian gentleman. He was 
a man of great knowledge and was interested in inventions. 
His name was Don Pedro, and at that time he was 
Emperor of Brazil. Because he was the ruler of a coun- 
try, the officers of the Centennial showed him every 
attention, and tried to make his visit alive with interest. 

Late one afternoon they took him to the room where 
the judges were examining objects entered for exhibits. 
The judges were tired and wanted to go home. They 
did not care to listen to a young man standing before 
them. This young man was telling them that he had a 
new invention; it was a telephone, and would carry the 
sounds of the human voice by electricity. The judges 
did not believe this, and were about to dismiss the young 
man without even putting the receiver to their ears and 
seeing if he spoke the truth. Don Pedro stood in the 
doorway listening. He looked at the judges; he looked 
at the young man, and was disgusted and angered that 
an invention should not receive a fair trial. He stepped 
forward and as he did so looked squarely at the young 
man. To his surprise he recognized in him an acquaint- 
ance made while visiting in Boston. 

At once Don Pedro examined the new instrument and 
then turning to the judges asked permission to make a 
trial of it himself. The young inventor went to the 
other end of the wire, which was in another room, and 
spoke into the transmitter some lines from a great poem, 
Don Pedro heard perfectly, and his praise changed the 



32 MODERN AMERICANS 

mind of the judges. They decided to enter the inven- 
tion as a "toy that might amuse the pubhc." This toy 
v/as the Bell telephone, the young inventor was Alex- 
ander Graham Bell, and he had the satisfaction of seeing 
the "toy" become the greatest attraction to visitors at 
the Centennial. This must have brought comfort to 
his heart, for Mr. Bell had been trying for some time to 
have people see what a convenience his invention would be. 

He had first thought of the telephone while searching 
for some way to help deaf mutes to talk. His father 
and grandfather had both been voice teachers in Edin- 
burgh and London, so when young Alexander came to 
America to seek his fortune it was natural he should 
teach methods of using the voice. But his pupils were 
unfortunate persons who could not talk because they 
were unable to hear the sounds of the voice. His father 
had worked out a plan for teaching the deaf, that the 
3^oung man improved. It was based on observation of 
the position of the lips and other vocal organs, while 
littering each sound. One by one the pupil learned the 
sounds by sight. Then he learned combinations of sounds 
and at last came to where he could "read the lips" and tell 
what a person was saying by looking at his moving lips. 

So you see Alexander Graham Bell knew a great deal 
about the way we talk. He kept studying and working 
in his eiforts to help his pupils, and his knowledge of the 
human ear gave him the first idea of his remarkable 
invention. 



AI.EXANDER GRAHAM BELL 33 

He thought If the small and thin ear drum could send 
thrills and vibrations through heavy bones, then it should 
be possible for a small piece of electrified iron to make an 
iron ear drum vibrate. In his imagination he saw two iron 
ear drums far apart but connected by an electrified wire. 
One end of the wire was to catch the vibrations of the 
sound, and the other was to reproduce them. He was 
sure he could make an instrument of this kind, for he 
said, "If I can make deaf mutes talk, I can make iron 
talk." 

One of his pupils helped him to do this by her words 
of sympathy and interest. She was a young girl named 
Mabel Hubbard. While still a baby she had lost her 
hearing, and consequently her speech, through an attack 
of scarlet fever. She was a bright, lovable girl, and had 
learned to talk through the teaching of Alexander Graham 
Bell. Her father was a man of great public spirit and the 
best friend Mr. Bell had in bringing the telephone before 
the public. Mabel Hubbard became the wife of her 
teacher, and encouraged him constantly to try and try 
again until his telephone would work. 

Professor Bell made his first instrument in odd hours 
after he had finished teaching for the day. You may 
smile when you hear he used in making it an old cigar 
box, two hundred feet of wire, and two magnets taken 
from a toy fish pond. But this was because he was very 
poor and had scarcely any money to spend on materials 
for his experiments. But he kept on working, and after 



34 MODERN AMERICANS 

the Centennial he was able to found a company and put 
his new invention on the market. The company had 
little money, so Mr. Bell lectured and explained his 
work. By this means he not only raised money, but 
established his name as the inventor or the telephone. 
There were a number of other students who had been 
thinking along the same lines as Mr. Bell, but he went 
farther than any one else and was the first to carry the 
sounds of the human voice by electricity. 

In the year 1877, the telephone was put into practical 
use for the public. It grew slowly. People did not 
realize how it could help them and they looked upon 
having a telephone as a luxury rather than a necessity. 
It was in the same year that the first long distance line 
was established. Today, when we can talk from Boston 
to San Francisco, it seems strange to read that the first 
long distance telephone reached only from Boston to 
Salem, a distance of sixteen miles. But then Mr. Bell 
thought twenty miles would be the limit at which it 
would be possible to send messages. So you see the 
Salem line was really quite long enough to satisfy the 
inventor, whose first instrument could convey sound 
only from the basement to the second story of a single 
building. 

Before long the reward that follows struggles and 
trials came to Alexander Graham Bell. The telephone 
went around the world because so many countries adopted 
it. Japan was the first, but she was followed quickly 



ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL 35 

by Others. It went to far off Abyssinia, where it is said 
the monkeys use the cables for swings and the elephants 
use the poles for scratching posts. 

Mr. Bell saw his invention enter every field of activity. 
It brought him riches and honor, but, more than all, it 
became a servant of mankind, and he could feel he had 
given a blessing to every class of people. 



OUR COUNTRY! 

And for your Country, boy, and for that Flag, never 
dream a dream but of serving her as she bids you, even 
though the service carry you through a thousand hells. No 
matter what happens to you, no matter who flatters you or 
who abuses you, never look at another flag, never let a night 
pass but you pray God to bless that Flag. Remember, boy, 
that behind officers and government, and people even, there 
is the Country Herself; your Country, and you belong to 
Her as you belong to your own mother. Stand by Her, 
boy, as you would stand by your mother.'''' 

— Edward E\?erett ILu-E. 




Phoiograph from Underwood &= Underwood, N. Y. 



EX-PRESIDENT THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
Addressing the Home Defense League 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT 

A little boy lived in the greatest city of the United 
States. He looked out from the windows of his home 
and saw tall buildings rising, story upon story, until 
they seemed to meet the sky. He saw narrow 
streets that twisted and turned in the queerest manner. 
Through these streets crowds of people were forever 
hurrying. 

There was no chance for this boy to run races, to play 
ball, to ride a horse, to row, or swim. He could not 
have a garden because the city lot on which his home 
stood was, like all the lots around it, just large enough 
for the house, so he had no yard. 

Where could he play and exercise. f' He was not strong, 
and his loving parents wanted him to grow into a healthy, 
hearty boy. Can you guess what they did for him? 
They turned their back porch into a gymnasium. Here 
he could have great sport and some hard work too. 
Hard, because at first he was so delicate he could not do 
what other boys did. He tried to climb the long pole 
that hung from the ceiling, but would slip back and have 
to begin all over again. However, he did not give up, 
but kept on trying until one day he reached the top. 
How proud he was! He grew so daring that the neighbors 
were frightened, but his mother only said, "If the Lord 
hadn't taken care of Theodore Roosevelt he would have 
been killed long ago," 

37 



38 MODERN AMERICANS 

Fortunately not all his life was to be spent in the 
crowded city, for his parents bought a country home on 
Long Island overlooking Oyster Bay. Theodore went 
there in the summer and had a chance to live out of 
doors. He tramped the woods, knew all the birds, hunted 
coon, gathered walnuts, and fished in pools for minnows. 
But even with all these outdoor pastimes he was far 
from well. Often he had choking spells of asthma at 
night. Then his father would hitch a team of horses, 
wrap his little invalid boy up warmly, and, taking him in 
his arms, drive fifteen or twenty miles in the darkness. 
This was the only way he could get his breath. 

Twice his father and mother took him to Europe in 
the hope of improving his health. A playmate remembers 
him as "a tall, thin lad with bright eyes, and legs like 
pipe-stems." He was not able to go to school regularly, 
so missed the fun of being with other boys. Most of his 
studying was done at home under private teachers, and 
in this way he prepared for college. 

Theodore Roosevelt spent four years at Harvard 
University and was graduated in 1880. It had been his 
aim to develop good health and a strong body, as well as 
to succeed in his studies. This was a struggle, but he 
won the fight, and, in speaking of himself at the time of 
his leaving college, he says: "I determined to be strong 
and well and did everything to make myself so. By the 
time I entered Harvard, I was able to take part in what- 
ever sports I liked. I wrestled and sparred, and I ran a 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT 39 

great deal, and, although I never came in first, I got more 
out of the exercise than those who did, because I im- 
mensely enjoyed it and never injured myself." 

Some time after leaving college, the frontier life of 
the Wild West called him. The lonely and pathless 
plains thrilled him, and he became a ranchman. His 
new home was a log house called Elkhorn Ranch in 
North Dakota. Here he raised his own chickens, grew 
his own vegetables, and got fresh meat with his gun. He 
bought cattle until he had thousands of head, all bearing 
the brand of a Maltese Cross. No fences confined these 
cattle, and sometimes they would wander for hundreds 
of miles. Twice a year it was the custom to round up all 
the Maltese herds for the purpose of branding the calves 
and "cutting out" the cattle which were fat enough to 
be shipped to market. 

On these round-ups, Theodore Roosevelt did his 
share of the work. Often this meant he rode fifty miles 
in the morning before finding the cattle. By noon he 
and his cowboys would have driven many herds into one 
big herd moving towards a wagon that had come out 
from the ranch. This wagon brought food for the men,, 
and Mr. Roosevelt has remarked, "No meals ever tasted 
better than those eaten out on the prairie." 

Dinner over, the work of branding and selecting 
could be done. Sometimes Mr. Roosevelt spent twenty- 
four hours at a stretch in the saddle, dismounting only 
to get a fresh pony. He did everything that his men 



40 MODERN AMERICANS 

did, and endured the hardship as well as the pleasure of 
ranch life. Often during the round-up he slept in the 
snow, wrapped in blankets, with no tent to shield him 
from the freezing cold. 

Although he kept Elkhorn Ranch for twelve years he 
gradually quit the cattle business and spent more and 
more time in New York City where he entered political 
life. 

But his vacations always found him in the West 
where his greatest pleasure was hunting. He hunted all 
over his ranch and through the Rocky Mountains beyond. 
Frequently he would go off alone with only a slicker, 
some hardtack, and salt behind his saddle, and his horse 
and rifle as his only companions. Once he had no water 
to drink for twenty-four hours and then had to use some 
from a muddy pool. But such adventures were sport 
for him, and he liked to see how much exposure he could 
stand. Then he would return to the East, rested and 
refreshed. 

When war between Spain and the United States was 
declared in 1898, Mr. Roosevelt was Assistant Secretary 
of the Navy. He resigned this office, saying, "I must get 
into the fight myself. It is a just war and the sooner we 
meet it, the better. Now that it has come I have no 
right to ask others to do the fighting while I stay at home." 

He decided to raise a regiment made up of men he had 
known in the West, together with adventure loving 
Easterners, and call them his "Rough Riders." He 



IHEODORE ROOSEVELT 41 

borrowed the name from the circus. The idea set the 
country aflame, and within a month the regiment was 
raised, equipped, and on Cuban soil. There was never a 
stranger group of men gathered together. Cowboys and 
Indians rode with eastern college boys and New York 
policemen. They were all ready to follow their leader, 
Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt. They were full-blooded 
Americans. They believed in their country, and they 
obeyed their leader, not because they had to do so but 
because it was right that they should obey. 

The most important battle in wldch the Rough Riders 
engaged was that of San Juan Hill, July i and 2, 1898. 
This helped to decide the war. Roosevelt led the charge. 
His horse became entangled in a barb wire fence, but he 
jumped off, ran ahead, and still kept in front of his men. 
He lived up to his advice, "When in doubt, go ahead." 

At the close of the war, when the Rough Riders 
returned to the United States, they landed on Long 
Island and the country rang with applause. The men 
could talk of no one but their commander, Colonel 
Roosevelt. The last night in camp was given over to a 
great celebration, and when goodbyes were said, he told 
them, "Outside of my own family I shall always feel 
stronger ties exist between you and me than exist between 
me and anyone else on earth." 

After his bravery in the war, every one In the United 
States admired Theodore Roosevelt, and was glad to 
honor him. He was elected Governor of the State of 



42 MODERN AMERICANS 

New York. Two years later, when William McKinley 
was made president, Roosevelt was chosen as vice- 
president. He had held this office but three months 
when President McKinley was killed, and Theodore 
Roosevelt became president of the country he loved to 
serve. 

In 1904 he was elected president to succeed himself, 
and so for seven and one-half years he gave his energies 
to the greatest office in our country. 

When his duties in the White House ended, he went 
on a long hunting trip to South Africa. There he killed 
many strange and savage animals. These he had 
mounted and sent home to government museums so they 
could be observed and studied. 

Returning to the United States as a private citizen, 
he spent much time in writing, for he had always liked 
to set down his ideas and experiences. If you look in a 
library catalogue, you will find Theodore Roosevelt 
wrote more than twenty books during his life. 

He died at his Sagamore Hill home in 1920, after a 
life of vigorous activity to the last. 

So we see he was a cowboy, a hunter, an author, a 
soldier, and president, but it was not for any of these 
achievements alone that we honor Theodore Roosevelt. 
It is because he was first, last, and always, an American, 
eager to serve our country and follow its free flag. 

^^ Speak softly and carry a big stick. ^^ 

Roosevelt's Favorite Proverb. 



JOHN PERSHING 

For two long years we in America watched the 
progress of the great European War. Again and again^ 
as we read the accounts of battles in which thousands 
of the brightest, best educated young men in Europe were 
cut down, we ardently prayed that we in America might 
escape the scourge of war. Protected by the broad 
Atlantic, we hoped that we might not be drawn into this, 
vortex of destruction. 

Finally, all our hopes were blasted when Germany,, 
with her sly submarines, began sinking our ships and 
drowning our citizens. As this was more than any 
honorable nation could endure, we, too, took up arms 
against Germany. 

No sooner had we entered the war than the task of 
raising a large army was earnestly begun, and within a 
few weeks training camps were established in every part 
of our country. After raising the army the next most 
important task was to find a general big enough to lead 
it. In this hour of need the nation turned to General 
John Pershing, and asked him to lead our boys on the 
bloody battle fields of Europe. 

As soon as he was chosen, General Pershing, better 
known as "Jack" Pershing, sailed for Europe. Days 
before he arrived the eyes of all Europe were turned in 
eager expectation, and as soon as he reached there, the 
people gave him a joyous welcome and extended to him 



43 




Photograph pom Underwooa &■ Underwood, N. K. 



GENERAL JOHN PERSHING 
At Army Headquarters 



JOHN PERSHING 45 

every possible courtesy. From the first, Europe liked 
General Pershing. Tall, broad shouldered, deep chested, 
with frank, clear eyes, he impressed all with the fact 
that he was indeed a soldier. 

The social life of London and Paris had small attrac- 
tion for General Pershing; he was restless for the battle 
front that he might thoroughly learn the war game, so 
that he could better teach it to our American boys. 
For weeks, associating with French and English officers, 
he studied methods of modern warfare. As he was 
doing this a vast army of American boys landed in 
France, and it has now fallen to the lot of General Jack 
Pershing to lead these brave lads into the midst of the 
most deadly war of all time. 

Who then is Jack Pershing.^ Where did he come from, 
and what has he done that should merit the confidence 
thus placed in him.^ 

General Pershing was born in Linn County, Missouri, 
Sept. 13, i860. As his parents were poor, young Jack, 
from very early in life, had to work hard. Able to 
attend school for only a few months each winter, the lad 
often longed for a better opportunity to get an educa- 
tion. Finally he was able to go for a term to the Normal 
School at Kirksville, Missouri. This was a proud day 
for him. But soon he had to quit school as his money 
had given out. Fortunately, he was able to pass the 
teacher's examination, and soon began teaching a country 
school. Now that he had a taste of knowledge, he 



46 MODERN AMERICANS 

Tesolved not to stop until he had secured a good educa- 
tion. Accordingly, he was soon back in the Normal 
School, where he was graduated at the age of twenty. 

In less than a month after his graduation, he learned 
•of a competitive examination for entrance into West 
Point Military Academy. With no rich or influential 
■friends to help him, the young normal graduate had little 
hope of getting into West Point. So excellent, however, 
were his examination papers that the poor Missouri boy 
was readily accepted and soon became a student in this 
great Military Academy. How fortunate that he was a 
hard working student and passed that examination, 
•otherwise America today would be without General 
Pershing. 

Relieved of all financial burden, for the government 
paid all his expenses in West Point, he settled down to 
four years of hard work. So successful was he in this 
work that upon his graduation he was made senior cadet 
•captain — the highest honor West Point can give to any 
.•student. 

Immediately after graduation he was sent into New 
Mexico and Arizona to help settle Indian difficulties. 
Life among the cowboys and Indians was indeed excit- 
ing, but perhaps his most exciting experience was with 
■an Apache Chief by the name of Geronimo. This old 
chief, with his group of warriors, had defied the entire 
United States for two years. Finally he fled into Mexico 
and young Pershing with his army was sent in pursuit. 



JOHN PERSHING 47 

Odd as it may seem, the old Indian chief took almost the 
same route through Mexico that Villa followed some 
thirty years later. No doubt General Pershing in his 
pursuit of Villa often thought of his experiences years 
before when after Geronimo and his warriors. 

After spending several years in the Southwest, at 
the age of thirty, he was made Professor of Military 
Tactics in the University of Nebraska. Here he re- 
mained four years during which time, in addition to 
his work as teacher, he completed the law course in 
the University. His next promotion pleased him 
greatly, for he was chosen a professor in his old school, 
West Point, where he remained but one year when 
the Cuban War broke out. Immediately he felt his 
country's call, and with the Tenth United States Cavalry 
sailed for Cuba. 

No sooner did he land than he found himself in the 
thick of the war. Among the hardest battles he was in 
were those at San Juan Hill and Santiago de Cuba. 
Twice during this war he was recommended for brevet 
commissions "for personal gallantry, untiring energy, 
and faithfulness." General Baldwin, under whom he 
served, had this to say of him, "I have been in many 
fights, through the Civil War, but Captain Pershing is 
the coolest man under fire I ever saw." 

At the close of the Cuban War he was made Commis- 
sioner of Insular Affairs with headquarters in Washing- 
ton. Here he remained but a short time when again he 



48 MODERN AMERICANS 

heard his country's call and was sent to the far distant 
Philippine Islands. 

The task assigned him was by no means easy. On 
Mindanao, one of the larger islands in the group, lived the 
Moros. So cruel and fierce were they that during all 
the years Spain held the Islands she had never attempted 
to civilize them. To Pershing was given the task of go- 
ing back into the mountains and capturing these Moros. 
To him was assigned the most stubborn problem the 
Islands presented. 

The best description of this Moro campaign is written 
by Rowland Thompson who says: "Up in the hills of 
western Mindanao some thirty miles from the sea, lies 
Lake Linao, and around it live one hundred thousand 
fierce, proud, uncivilized Mohammedans, a set of mur- 
derous farmers who loved a fight so well that they were 
willing at any time to die for the joy of combat, whose 
simple creed makes the killing of Christians a virtue. 

"Pershing warned the hot-head of them all, the 
Sultan, if there were any further trouble he would destroy 
their stronghold. The Sultan in his fortress, with walls 
of earth and living bamboo forty feet thick, laughed at 
the warning. In two days his fortress was in ruins. So 
skillful was Pershing's attack that he captured the 
stronghold with the loss of but two men." 

In a similar manner he later took stronghold after 
stronghold until finally all the Moros were conquered. 
Having subdued the Moros he was then made Governor 



JOHN PERSHING 49 

of the Island, holding the office until he was sent to help 
settle the bandit difficulty on the Mexican border. 

In his journey from the Philippine Islands to the Mex- 
ican border, General Pershing was called upon to fight 
the hardest battle of his entire life. Leaving his wife 
and four children at the Presidio Hotel in San Francisco, 
he went to El Paso, Texas, to rent a house. While in 
El Paso he was shocked to get a telegram stating that 
the Presidio had burned and that his wife and three 
daughters had perished in the flames. Surely this was 
enough to crush an ordinary man, but again he showed 
the superior qualities of his manhood by bearing up 
bravely, and continuing faithfully to perform the respon- 
sible tasks assigned him. 

Though the Mexican trouble did not give General 
Pershing a chance to show his ability to lead men under 
fire, it did give him ample opportunity to convince his 
countrymen that he possessed remarkable skill in round- 
ing up and developing a large army. 

During the World War, General Pershing was placed 
in command of the entire American Army in Europe and, 
through his wise council and able handling of his forces, 
was proclaimed one of the greatest officers who took part 
in this great war. 



^'Lafayette, we are here!'' 

— General Pershing at Lafayette's Tomb. 





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Photograph from Underwood &* Underwood, N. F. 



EX-PRESIDENT WILLIAM H. TAFT 
At His Son's Wedding 



WILLIAM HOWARD TAFT 

Most great men have been born poor. For one in 
early life to struggle with poverty seems to prepare him 
in later years to struggle with the big problems that 
make men great. 

To be born amid wealth too often has a softening 
effect. Pampered with all that money can buy, the rich 
lad looks to others rather than to his own efforts. Not 
so with William Howard Taft. Though he was born 
with a silver spoon in his mouth, as we sometimes say, 
and fortune smiled upon him, he was never spoiled; but 
on the contrary he early developed a capacity for hard 
work, and a willingness to take rather than avoid hard 
knocks. These, as we shall see, insured his success in 
later life. 

Born as he was in a beautiful home in the aristocratic 
section of Cincinnati, his boyhood surroundings were 
almost ideal. Not only was his home provided with 
every comfort, but it also was one in which culture and 
refinement reigned. When you are told that young 
William's father held the following positions. Judge of 
the Superior Court of Cincinnati, Secretary of War 
under President Grant, Attorney General, Minister to 
Austria and to Russia, you will readily see that the 
lad's home life was truly stimulating. 

As you study the picture of Mr. Taft, you will observe 
that he is an extremely large man, weighing nearly 

51 



52 MODERN AMERICANS 

three hundred pounds. Unhke many men, he did not 
become fleshy in his maturer years, but from his boyhood 
has been large and, as the boys say, fat. When a mere 
lad he was a plump, chubby, roly-poly chap who was 
always liked because he was so good natured. Can you 
guess the nick-names the other boys gave him.^ Some- 
times they called him "Lubber," but most of the time 
he was hailed simply as ''Lub." Big, over-grown boys 
are sure to be awkward, and "Lub" was no exception. 
If he started to run across a held with the other boys, he 
was sure to fall. When they turned to gather him up, 
they would fairly roll with laughter, declaring that he 
was too fat to see where he was stepping. The fact that 
when he fell he was sure "to land on his head," caused 
the boys to call him "Lead-Head and Cotton-Body." 

When he entered the Woodward High School, the boys 
changed his nick-name from "Lub" to "Old Bill" and 
later to plain "Bill." In high school he was too fat to 
run, too slow for baseball, and didn't care for football. 

At seventeen he had graduated from high school and 
was about to enter Yale. Can you imagine him as he 
enters that great University.^ With beardless cheeks 
that were as red as an apple, and able to tip the scales 
at two hundred thirty pounds, he seemed indeed a 
giant. No longer was he chubby and awkward; he 
was now broad shouldered, tall and sure of step. 
His muscles were so firm that he was a hard antagonist 
for anyone. 



WILLIAM HOWARD TAFT 53 

Hardly had he entered school before he got 
*'mixed up" in one of the many college rushes of those 
days. *'In that particular rush Taft went crashing 
through the sophomores like a catapult. One, a man 
of his own weight, leaped in front of him. Then 
Taft let forth a joyous roar and charged! He grap- 
pled with the other Ajax, lifted him bodily, and 
heaved him over his head. No wonder he got the nick- 
name of "Bull Taft." 

Of course a chap capable of such a feat must join the 
football squad, said the fellows of the University. But 
Bill's father back in Cincinnati had entirely different 
plans for the giant freshman. He was eager to have his 
son win his laurels in the classroom rather than on the 
gridiron. The father, while in Yale, had won honors, 
and why shouldn't his son.'' Furthermore, Bill had some 
pride, for already his brother had carried away from Yale 
high honors in scholarship, and, if possible. Bill was not 
to be outdone by his brother. Accordingly, he settled 
down to four years of downright hard work, and "from 
day to day, lesson by lesson, he slowly made his way 
close to the head of the class." 

That he acquired, while in college, a relish for hard 
work is shown by the fact that as soon as he had grad- 
uated he undertook three jobs at the same time: he 
studied law in his father's law office, carried the regular 
work of the Cincinnati Law School, and was court 
reporter for The Times Star of Cincinnati. 



54 MODERN AMERICANS 

So rapid was his achievement that at the age of 
twenty-four he was made Internal Revenue Collector at 
a salary of ^4500 a year. Surely this was a good salary 
for a man so young. But other promotions were destined 
to come in close succession; for, at the age of twenty-nine 
he was made Judge of the Superior Court of Ohio, and a 
year later was appointed by President Harrison Solicitor- 
General of the United States at a salary of ^7000 a year. 

After three years of service as a Solicitor-General, 
President Harrison made him Judge of the Federal Court 
of the Sixth Circuit that included Michigan, Ohio, 
Kentucky, and Tennessee. As judge of this court, sev- 
eral of the most famous cases in our history came before 
him, and in every case his power of analysis was so mani- 
fest, and his decision so just that the entire nation learned 
to look to him with confidence. Into his court came, on 
the one hand employers who were eager for every pos- 
sible advantage, and were willing to crush labor in order 
to gain it; and on the other hand laborers who distrusted 
their employers and were morbid and resentful. To 
preside over a court where force was thus meeting force, 
where battle lines were distinctly drawn was no small 
task. Mr. Taft, however, since he was always fair and 
kind, since he possessed largeness of vision and pureness 
of soul, was big enough for the task. 

At this time in Judge Taft's life he seems to have had 
but one ambition — he desired to become a Jude:e of the 
Supreme Court of the United States. But while he was 



WILLIAM HOWARD TAFT 55 

eagerly looking in that direction, his nation was prepar- 
ing other and greater tasks for him. 

Far across the broad Pacific lie the Philippine Islands 
— more i three thousand of them. On these islands 

liveeie '"on people. As a result of our war with Spain 

these iii... came into our possession; but what were we 
to do with them ^ Representing as they did every stage of 
development from University graduates to Moro head- 
hunters, the task of governing them was indeed difficult. 

Who should be assigned this task? Where was a man 
big enou^ i to bring order out of confusion and mould 
these V • ' divergent tribes into a unified colony.'' 

Pp t McKinley and those in authority with him 

finall;. ed that Judge Taft was the man for the 

placr rdingly, he was soon seen on the broad 

Pat ing to the task that awaited him. From 

isla md he and his commissioners journeyed 

stuc ditions. Everywhere he found the people 

susp eager to state their grievances. Naturally 

kind, li- d fair, he so won their confidence that he 

was soon a. c to direct their efforts. It is impossible here 
to tell of his remarkable work in the Islands. As Gov- 
ernor-G iu.ral he greatly reduced the death rate by 
introdu 'i':^ sanitary conditions; he established and de- 
veloped a free public school system, and, most important of 
all, 1 e traip'^'> the Filipinos in the artof self government. 

From ( rnor-General of the Philippines Mr. Taft 
was mau. retary of War. Fortunately, his experi- 



56 MODERN AMERICANS 

ences In the Islands, in a peculiar manner, fitted him for this 
new responsibilty ; for, during his entire sojourn in the Phil- 
ippines he had come in closest contact with the soldiers. 
As they at all times were his closest companions, he learned 
to understand them perfectly. Able to get their viewpoint 
on all matters pertaining to war, he was able to secure 
from the start the highest possible cooperation. His great- 
est single task as Secretary of War was to finish building 
the Panama Canal, and indeed this was a task; but the Big 
Man kept at the big job until finally it was completed. 

But the crowning event in the life of this great man 
was his election to the presidency of the United States. 
Here he was the same frank, genuine man he had always 
been. Had he been more of a politician he, no doubt, 
would have gained greater popular favor, but, after all, 
the approval of the multitudes is not the highest goal to 
be sought. Above this is fidelity to duty, and this Mr. 
Taft always possessed in an unusual degree. 

With the completion of his term in the White House 
he did not withdraw from active life as so many ex- 
presidents have done; on the contrary, he became at once 
a member of the faculty of his beloved Yale University. 

During the great World War, Mr. Taft was made 
director of the American Red Cross Association, and in 
1920 he became the Chief Justice of the United States 
Supreme Court. 



LUTHER BURBANK 

To whom does Luther Burbank belong? Massach- 
setts, In old New England, claims him as her son. But 
far to the west, proud California, kissed by the majestic 
Pacific, declares that he more truly belongs to her. But 
why argue? A man whose life has so materially blessed 
mankind everywhere belongs to the whole world. Re- 
cently, in far way France, when the name of Mr. Burbank 
was spoken in the Chamber of Deputies in Paris, every 
member arose to his feet as a tribute of honor. 

But why do we all claim Luther Burbank? Why is 
his name a household word in every country? Because, 
without him, the world today would no doubt be hungry. 

Mr. Burbank was born almost beneath the shadow 
of Bunker Hill Monument on the seventh day of March, 
1849. When able to toddle about, his playmates were 
plants rather than animals. Oddly enough his first doll 
was a cactus plant that he carried about proudly until 
one day he fell and broke it. 

As a boy he was not strong, and did not like the 
rougher sports. In school he was bashful, retiring, and 
serious. Though a good student he could neither recite 
well nor speak pieces, as he was afraid even of his own 
voice. 

When he was just a lad he was taken out of school and 
put to work in a plow factory that belonged to his uncle. 
But he did not like the factory. Often he longed for the 




Photograph from Underwood b' Underwood, N. Y. 



LUTHER BURBANK 
World Famous Plant Wizard 



LUTHER BURBANK 59 

out of doors with its plants and flowers. So strong was 
this desire for the out of doors that he left the factory 
and began truck gardening on a small scale; and it was 
while caring for this truck garden that he developed the 
Burbank potato, thus achieving his first success. So 
valuable was this discovery that the United States 
Department of Agriculture declares that the Burbank 
potato has added to the wealth of this country seventeen 
million dollars each year since this variety was developed. 

When twenty-six years of age, Mr. Burbank decided 
that the climate and soil of far-away California were best 
suited to his work. Accordingly, with ten of his best 
potatoes, and his small savings, he started across the 
continent. When his journey was ended he found him- 
self in a fertile but unimproved valley about fifty miles 
north of San Francisco. On either side of this beautiful 
valley were spurs of the Coast Range Mountains. 

His first task was to find work, but as few people at 
that time lived in the region, jobs were hard to get. In 
speaking of this period of his life, Mr. Burbank says: 
"One day I heard that a man was building a house. I 
went to him and asked him for the job of shingling it. 
He asked me what I would do it for. The regular price 
was two dollars and a half a thousand, but I was so 
anxious for the work that I offered to do it for one dollar 
and seventy-five cents. 'AH right,' he said, 'come and 
begin tomorrow.' But I had no shingling hammer and 
all the cash I had in the world was seventy-iive cents, 



60 MODERN AMERICANS 

which I at once expended in purchasing the necessary 
hammer. Next morning when I reached the job, my 
new hammer in hand, all ready to go to work, I was 
surprised and — ^what shall I say — dismayed, to find 
another man already at work, while the owner calmly 
came to me and said, 'I guess you'll have to let that job 
go, as this man here has undertaken to do it for one 
dollar a thousand.' 

"How disappointed I was! I had spent my last cent, 
had a hammer that was no use to me now, and no job. 
But I kept a stiff upper lip and work soon came, and I've 
never been so hard up since." 

Mr. Harwood in describing this period in the life of 
Mr. Burbank says: "The man who was to become the 
foremost figure in the world in his line of work, and who 
was to pave the way by his own discoveries and creations 
for others of all lands to follow his footsteps, was a 
stranger in a strange land, close to starvation, penniless, 
beset by disease, hard by the gates of death. But never 
for an instant did this heroic figure lose hope, never 
did he abandon confidence in himself nor did he swerve 
from the path he had marked out. In the midst of 
all he kept an unshaken faith. He accepted the 
trials that came, not as a matter of course, not tamely, 
nor with any mock heroism, but as a passing neces- 
sity. His resolution was of iron, his will of steel, his 
heart of gold; he was fighting in the splendid armor 
of a clean life." 



LUTHER BURBANK 61 

As a result of his industry, in a few years, Mr. Burbank 
was able to buy four acres of land where he started a 
nursery. From the first this enterprise was successful. 
Upon this plot he built a modest home where he still 
resides. Here, and on a larger plot a few miles distant,, 
all his remarkable experiments have been made. 

Before we learn more about his achievements I am 
sure we should like to become better acquainted with the 
man. Suppose, then, we invite Professor Edward Wickson 
of the University of California, who knows him well, to 
tell us about him. 

*'Mr. Burbank is of medium stature and rather slender 
form; light eyes and dark hair, now rapidly running to 
silver. His countenance is very mobile, lighting up 
quickly and as quickly receding to the seriousness of 
earnest attention, only to rekindle with a smile or relax 
into a laugh, if the subject be in the lighter vein. He is 
exceedingly quick in apprehension, seeming to anticipate 
the speaker, but never intruding upon his speech. There is 
always a suggestion of shyness in his manner, and there is 
ever present a deep respectfulness. He is frank, open-heart- 
ed, and out-spoken. All his actions are artless and quiet^ 
even the modulations of his voice follow the lower keys."^ 

But, you ask, what marvelous things has this modest 
man done that should make his name a household word 
the world over.^ 

All truly great people have high ideals that guide 
them In their work. The one ideal that guides Mr. 



62 MODERN AMERICANS 

Burbank Is his love for humanity. Naturally sympa- 
thetic, he cannot endure the thought of human suffering. 

Since so much human misery is due to lack of food, 
to hunger, he has resolved if possible to make the world 
produce more bread. But how can he do this? If only 
he can get each head of wheat to produce just one addi- 
tional grain then the problem will be solved — for then 
the wheat crop of this country will be increased five 
million two hundred thousand bushels. Year after 
year he worked at this task until finally each head of 
wheat actually did produce more grains. Now that he 
has succeeded in increasing the yield of wheat, he has 
resolved not to stop until the yield of all the cereals is 
increased in a like manner. 

By what principle, then, does he accomplish these 
marvelous feats.'* What are his methods.^ Eager as 
we are to understand them, doubtless most of us must 
wait until we have learned a great deal about science, 
for his methods are extremely scientific. 

Though unable to comprehend his methods, we are 
able to appreciate the results of his work. So marvelous 
are these results that they seem like fairy tales. For 
example, he has developed a white blackberry; but this 
is not all, he has developed blackberry plants so large 
that a single plant produces more than a bushel of berries. 

I am sure that we all like strawberries so well that 
sometimes we have wished that the strawberry season 
were not so short; and in the future it will not be, 



LUTHER BURBANK 63 

for he has produced plants that bear strawberries all 
summer. 

Mr. Burbank, knowing that boys and girls are likely 
to hit their fingers cracking walnuts, has developed a 
walnut with a very thin shell, so thin in fact that the 
birds can break through it and help themselves to the 
meat. Now he has to thicken the shell again. 

How should you like to eat a peach that had, instead 
of the ordinary stone, a fine almond in the center.'' In 
the future you may eat just such peaches, for Mr. Bur- 
bank has developed them. 

Most of us have seen the ordinary cactus. We have 
been very careful, however, not to touch it as the spines 
are sure to prick us. It is interesting to know that the 
cactus is a desert plant — that, though millions of acres 
of arid land in the West can produce little else, they can 
produce enormous quantities of cactus. Unfortunately, 
these plants have always been useless as neither man 
nor beast would eat them. True, cattle liked them, but 
the cruel spines made the eating of them impossible. 

As good pasture lands are so scarce in the West, Mr. 
Burbank wondered why a cactus could not be developed 
that had no spines. Accordingly, he began his work, and 
already has accomplished results far greater than he had 
expected. Not only has he developed spineless cactus, 
thus redeeming millions of acres of desert land for the 
use of animals, but he has also developed scores of 
varieties that are pleasing to the taste of man. Some 



64 MODERN AMERICANS 

taste like the canteloupe, others Hke the peach, and still 
others like the plum or pomegranate. Fortunately, they 
ripen at all times during the year and can be carried to 
every part of the country without decaying en route. 
Through the efforts of Mr. Burbank the hitherto worth- 
less cactus has become the most promising fruit of the 
desert. 

Just as Mr. Burbank has improved the wheat, the 
blackberry, the strawberry, the peach, and the cactus, so he 
has increased the yield and improved the quality of 
practically every cereal, fruit, and vegetable. 

True, he has not made a great fortune for himself, but 
a knowledge that tens of thousands who otherwise might 
go hungry are, because of his efforts, fed, must give him 
a satisfaction that is far greater than money could give. 
And, after all, doesn't true greatness lie in giving to 
others rather than in gathering to one's self? 



'^And he gave it as his opinion^ that whoever could make 

two ears of corn, or two blades of grass, to grow upon a spot 

of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better 

of mankind and do m,ore essential service to his country, 

than the zuhole race of politicians put together.^'' 

— Dean Swift. 



CLARA BARTON 

In the little Maryland village of Glen Echo, a frail, 
gentle old lady was taking leave of this world one April 
day, in the year 1912, She was greatly beloved and 
many friends from every state in the Union sent her 
words of comfort and cheer. They praised her noble 
work and called her "The Guardian Angel" of the suffer- 
ing, but the little old lady looked into the faces of those 
about her and said, "I know of nothing remarkable that 
I have done." 

She was Clara Barton, the woman who brought the 
Red Cross to our country; but, being accustomed to work- 
ing always for others, her labors did not seem great or 
unusual to her. Today we know she is one of the hero- 
ines of the world, for she believed in the brotherhood of 
man, and her aim was to relieve suffering humanity, 
irrespective of nationality or creed. 

Her childhood was a happy, joyous one spent in the 
little village of North Oxford, Massachusetts. She was 
the youngest child of a large family, and her brothers and 
sisters were very proud of her because she learned so 
rapidly and because she was never afraid of anything. 
She would follow her oldest brother about the house with 
a slate, begging him to give her hard sums to do. Out 
of doors she was eager for adventure; her brother David 
often said, "Clara is never afraid, she can ride any colt 
on the farm," and often he would throw her on the bare 

65 




Photograph from Underwood 6* Underwood, N, Y. 



CLARA BARTON 
Founder of the American Red Cross 



CLARA BARTON 67 

back of a young horse and cry, "Hold fast to the mane," 
and away she would gallop over the fields. 

Winter evenings the family would gather about the 
great fireplace in the living room and listen to the father 
tell of his experiences on the battle fields of the Revo- 
lutionary War. He had been a soldier under the dash- 
ing General Anthony Wayne, called ''Mad Anthony" 
Wayne, because of his reckless daring. Clara was thrilled 
by these stories of army life, and never tired of hearing 
her father recount them. 

When Clara was eleven years of age, her brother 
David had a terrible fall, and for more than two years he 
was a helpless invalid. At once she became his nurse 
and he relied upon her for all manner of service, pre- 
ferring her to his older sister or even his mother. "Clara 
is a born nurse," said the family, as they saw the care 
she was giving the boy, and indeed she was. It was a 
joy to her to wait upon the sick, and she considered It 
no hardship to sacrifice herself. 

When David was well, Clara went to school and 
prepared herself to teach. Her scholars found her an 
able teacher and liked her ways of instructing them. We 
know this to be true, because when she opened her first 
school she had only six pupils, but her fame spread so 
rapidly that when June came six hundred children had 
entered her classes and were much disappointed when 
they found she could not teach them all but had to have 
assistant teachers. 



68 MODERN AMERICANS 

The Strain of planning for so many pupils was too 
heavy for her, so she gave up teaching and took a position 
in the pension office at Washington. She was there at 
the beginning of^ the great war between the North and 
South, and at once felt it to be her duty to leave her work 
and minister to the wounded soldiers. 

At first she busied herself in the hospitals at Washing- 
ton, but she longed to go to the front and help on the 
battle fields. She told her father of her strong desire, 
and he said to her, "Go, if you feel it your duty to gol 
I know what soldiers are, and I know that every true 
soldier will respect you and your errand." 

At last our government gave her permission, and she 
went to the front as fearless as any ofiicer in the army. 
Amid the rain of shot and shell she went about on errands 
of mercy. Then there was no organized relief for the 
soldiers, no Red Cross, no Y. M. C. A., no help of any 
kind except what kind persons here and there over the 
country tried to give. This was very little, when com- 
pared to the vast amount of suffering, but Clara Barton 
managed to gather supplies and money so that she was 
able to give assistance to both the boys In blue and the 
boys in gray. She saved many lives, she wrote countless 
letters home for wounded soldiers, and she stood alone 
by the death-bed of many a brave fellow, speaking words 
of comfort and cheer. Whenever anyone suggested 
that she was working beyond her strength, she would 
say, "It is my duty," and go on regardless of her personal 



CLARA BARTON 69 

welfare. One of her best friends, Miss Lucy Larcom, 
wrote of her as follows : 

*'We may catch a glimpse of her at Chantilly in the 
darkness of the rainy midnight, bending over a dying 
boy who took her supporting arm and soothing voice for 
his sister's — or falling into a brief sleep on the wet ground 
in her tent, almost under the feet of flying cavalry; or rid- 
ing in one of her trains of army-wagons towards another 
field, subduing by the way a band of mutinous teamsters 
into her firm friends and allies; or at the terrible battle at 
Antietam, where the regular army supplies did not 
arrive till three days afterward, furnishing from her 
wagons cordials and bandages for the wounded, making 
gruel for the fainting men from the meal in which her 
medicines had been packed, extracting with her own 
hand a bullet from the cheek of a wounded soldier, tend- 
ing the fallen all day, with her throat parched and her 
face blackened by sulphurous smoke, and at night, when 
the surgeons were dismayed at finding themselves left 
with only one half-burnt candle, amid thousands of 
bleeding, dying men. Illuming the field with candles and 
lanterns her forethought had supplied. No wonder they 
called her The Angel of the Battle Field'." 

After the war. President Lincoln asked her to search 
for the thousands of men who were missing. She at 
once visited the prisons, helped the prisoners to regain 
their health, and get in touch with their families. Besides 
this, she searched the National Cemeteries and had grave 



70 MODERN AMERICANS 

Stones put over many of the graves telling who were buried 
there. This work took four years, and at the end of it 
she was so broken in health that she went abroad for a 
long rest. 

While she was in Switzerland she heard first of the 
Red Cross Society and attended a meeting called to 
establish an International Society. Twenty-four nations 
were represented at the meeting, but the United States 
was not among that number. For some years it refused 
to join. Miss Barton devoted herself to showing our 
government that in joining the International Red Cross 
we would not be entangling ourselves in European affairs 
but would be working for the good of all men. At last, 
in 1887, she won her victory, and the United States 
signed the agreement of the Red Cross Society. This is 
called the Treaty of Geneva. 

When the first meeting was held in Geneva, Switzer- 
land, there were persons present who found fault with 
the plan. They said the world should do away with 
warfare instead of caring for those it injured. But the 
Swiss President said it would take a long time for the 
world to learn to do without warfare. He believed the 
Red Cross would help to bring about the era of peace by 
caring for the afflicted and relieving the horror of war. 
The terrible struggle in Europe is showing us the truth 
of his words, for, when we hear about the frightful hap- 
penings, all the glory and grandeur of warfare fade 
away. 



CLARA BARTON 71 

A man who sees far into the future, has written, 

Some day the Red Cross will triumph over the cannon. 

The future belongs to all helpful powers, however humble, 

for two allies are theirs, suffering humanity and merciful 

God." 

Clara Barton, who also could look beyond her day, 
saw another use for the Red Cross besides war service. 
She said : "It need not apply to the battle field alone, but 
we should help all those who need our help." So the 
American Red Cross passed an amendment to the effect 
that its work should apply to all suffering from fires, 
floods, famine, earthquake, and other forms of disaster. 
This amendment was finally adopted by all nations. 

At the time of the Spanish War, Miss Barton was 
seventy years old, but she went to Cuba and did heroic 
work. When the Galveston flood occurred she was 
eighty, but she went to the stricken community and 
helped in every way. After giving up her active work, 
she retired to Glen Echo and spent the remainder of her 
days quietly, always interested in the great cause to which 
she had given her life. 

We know what the American Red Cross does for our 
soldiers, and whenever we see its emblem we should 
think of Clara Barton, as a "Noble type of good, heroic 
womanhood; one who was kind, humane, and helpful to 
ail peoples, one who longed for the time when suffering 
and horror should pass away." 




Photograph from Underwood 6^ Underwood, N. Y. 



GEORGE W. GOETHALS 
Builder of the Panama Canal 



GEORGE W. GOETHALS 

The men who worked on the Panama Canal used to 
sing this little song of their own composing: 

"See Colonel Goethals, 

Tell Colonel Goethals, 

It's the only right and proper thing to do. 

Just write a letter, or even better, 

Arrange a little Sunday interview." 

Colonel George W. Goethals was the chief engineer 
of the canal, and when he arrived in Panama he found 
that many of the men were discontented. They felt 
they were not treated fairly. Now there were sixty-five 
thousand persons employed there, and Colonel Goethals 
knew that if they were not kept well and in good spirits 
the great work would never be completed. So he said 
he would be in his ofiice every Sunday morning at seven 
o'clock. Then, any man or woman who had a complaint 
could come and tell him about it. He was so wise, and 
decided the cases with such fairness that the men came to 
believe in their new chief and were anxious to serve him. 

It was when Theodore Roosevelt was President of the 
United States that Colonel Goethals was sent to Panama. 
President Roosevelt was anxious to have our dream of a 
canal across the Isthmus of Panama come true, but many 
persons in our country as well as in other parts of the 
world told him it was foolish to spend money on such an 

73 



74 MODERN AMERICANS 

uncertain undertaking. They said the great sHdes of 
gravel and sand along the sides of the canal could never 
be stopped. They said the locks would never work. 
President Roosevelt paid no attention to these com- 
ments, but selected Colonel Goethals because he was 
sure he could build the canal. 

Colonel Goethals cared as little as President Roose- 
velt for the opinion that the task was Impossible. In 
fact, he told the President : "Say nothing to such doubting 
persons. By and by we will answer them with the canal." 

We know that he did give such an answer. He built 
the canal right through the red shifting hills of sand that 
threatened to slide down and choke his work. He cut 
away a jungle so the banks of the canal could be kept 
free and open. But best of all, he taught order to the 
men who worked under him, and they found out that he 
believed in them, he believed in the work that he was 
doing, and he believed in the Government of the United 
States. No wonder they made a song about him and 
praised his splendid leadership. 

As his title tells us, Colonel Goethals belongs to the 
regular army. Until he was appointed as the chief 
engineer of the Panama Canal, no military man had been 
in charge there. The men working on the canal were 
performing civil duties, and in no way resembled soldiers. 
When they heard a regular army officer was coming down, 
they did not like the idea of having to obey just as if they 
were soldiers. Many of the foremen and officials told 



GEORGE W. GOETHALS 75 

their men they would have to spend their time saluting 
Colonel Goethals and standing at attention with their 
little fingers against the seams of their trousers. 

During the first days of his stay in Panama, a banquet 
was given in honor of Colonel Goethals, for the men felt 
they must entertain their new chief, though they were 
not friendly to him. 

At this banquet, they cheered the former engineer, 
John G. Stevens, and did not applaud Colonel Goethals 
when he appeared. However he was exceedingly polite 
and did not notice their bad manners. The men 
had expected to see him wear a full dress uniform, 
and you can imagine how surprised they were when they 
saw him dressed in citizens' clothes. Never once while he 
was in Panama did Colonel Goethals appear in uniform. 

After the banquet there was a program of speeches. 
Each speaker made cutting remarks about the new 
military control, but the Colonel did not seem to notice 
their insults. At last it was his time to speak. He said 
only a few words, but they changed the minds of his 
hearers. He told them they were all there to build the 
canal. They were working for their government, the 
United States of America. He wanted no salutes, but he 
wanted work. This pleased the men and they were 
ashamed of their impoliteness. 

The Colonel's first act was to organize the workmen 
into three divisions, the Atlantic, the Central, and the 
Pacific. 



76 MODERN AMERICANS 

He put each under a superintendent. Then he stirred 
up contests between these divisions. He would tell the 
men on the Pacific division how rapidly the men on the 
Atlantic division were digging or putting in concrete. 
Of course, each division wanted to make the best show- 
ing, and the men were always eager to get the Canal 
Record, a small weekly newspaper, so they could read 
the scores of the different divisions. These scores grew 
to be more exciting than those of ball games, and the men 
worked hard and well. 

They liked Colonel Goethals and whenever he went by 
they saluted him; notwqth the army salute which they had 
scorned, but by wavingtheir hands, lifting their caps, and 
greeting him with a smile on their lips and in their eyes. 

They felt free to talk to him because they knew he was 
their friend. Shortly after he started his Sunday morn- 
ing office hours, some of the lowest paid men told him 
that their bosses swore at them all day and used the 
worst kind of language. At once he sent the following 
order out all over the Canal Zone. 

PROFANE LANGUAGE 

Culebra, C. Z. Aug. 4, 1911 
Circular No. 400: 

The use of profane or abusive language by 
foremen or others in authority, when address- 
ing subordinates, will not be tolerated. 
Geo. W. Goethals, 

Chairman and Chief Engineer. 



GEORGE W. GOETHALS 77 

Some of the foreman did not talk much for a while, they 
had been so used to swearing, but the Colonel's orders 
were obeyed. 

The work then moved along smoothly and Colonel 
Goethals was looking forward to the end of his labors, 
when one day an engineer on the Panama Railroad paid 
no attention to the signals and let his train run into the 
rear coaches of another train, killing the conductor. 

This engineer was drunk, and it is against the rules 
of any railroad for an intoxicated person to be in its 
employ. Colonel Goethals had the engineer arrested 
and put in jail. However, the man belonged to a labor 
union, and this union sent a committee demanding that 
he release the engineer by seven o'clock that evening. 
If he did not, they would order all the men working along 
the canal to strike. This meant that the work on the 
canal would stop, and it might be weeks before it would 
be resumed. They would wait, they said, for his answer 
until seven o'clock that evening. Colonel Goethals 
listened to the committee, then shook hands with them 
and went to his home. 

Seven o'clock came, then eight. The committee was 
worried. They telephoned Colonel Goethals and asked 
for his answer. He replied in surprise that they had it. 
They said it had not reached them. He reminded them 
that they intended to strike at seven o'clock if the man 
was not released, and then said, "It is now eight o'clock; if 
you call the penitentiary, you will find themanis still there." 



78 MODERN AMERICANS 

The leaders did not want to strike- They had 
expected to make Colonel Goethals do what they wanted. 
Then they said, "Do you want to tie up the work down 
here, Colonel"? 

"I am not tying it up," he told them, "You are. 
You forget that this is not a private enterprise, but a 
government job." 

When asked w^hat he was going to do, his answer was: 
"Any man not at work tomorrow morning will be given 
his transportation to the United States. He will go out 
on the first steamer and he will never come back." 

There was only one man who had failed to report, 
and he sent a doctor's certificate saying he was too sick 
to w^ork. There were no more strikes. 

In May, 1913, a Congressman introduced a bill into 
the House of Representatives providing for the promo- 
tion of Colonel Goethals from Colonel to Major-General 
as a reward for his services in building the canal. At 
once Colonel Goethals wrote the gentleman saying he 
appreciated his kindness but he did not believe he should 
be singled out for such an honor. There were many 
men, he said, who had done great work in Panama, and 
they, as well as himself, felt repaid for their services not 
only by their salary but by the honor of being connected 
with such a wonderful task. He said also that the 
United States Government had educated and trained him 
so it was but right that it should have his services. The 
bill was withdrawn and Colonel Goethals was satisfied. 



GEORGE W. GOETHALS 79 

When we look at the life of this successful man it 
seems as if all the years before his going to the Canal 
Zone were but a preparation for the great feat that 
awaited him there. He was always eager to work, and 
when he was a little boy in New York City he earned his 
first money by doing errands. At that time he was 
eleven years of age, but by the time he was fifteen he 
was the cashier and bookkeeper in a market. Other boys 
spent their time playing ball, but he worked after school 
and every Saturday. He was paid five dollars a week. 
His first hope was to be a physician, but the steady 
indoor work had weakened his health and he decided to 
become a soldier. He thought the excellent military 
training would make him well and strong, so he passed 
the examinations for West Point jMilitary Academy. 

As he knew no one there, George Goethals' entry into 
the famous school was but little noticed. However, as 
the months and years passed, every one there was proud 
to claim him as a pupil or classmate. 

There are three great honors to be won at West Point. 
Any man who wins one of these is called an honor man, 
and the entire school looks up to him. The first honor 
is to have the highest grade as a student. The second 
is to be named a leader and an officer over all the rest of 
the class. The third is to be chosen for an office by one's 
classmates because they like him. George W. Goethals 
won all three of these. He was an honor man in his 
studies; his teachers chose him as one of the four captains 



80 MODERN AMERICANS 

taken from his class; and this same class elected him 
president in his senior year. 

With such a school record it is not at all surprising 
that Colonel Goethals made steady progress in the army 
and so was considered by President Roosevelt to be the 
one person who could build the canal. Since its com- 
pletion, this able soldier has continued to serve his 
country, and when President Wilson declared we were in 
a state of war with Germany, Colonel Goethals was 
among the first persons summoned to help plan and 
supervise the great war program; for at the root of his 
success lies loyalty, — loyalty to his work, to his fellow 
men, and to the Government of the United States. 



CHILDREN'S PLEDGE 

I fledge allegiance to my Flag 

And to the Republic for which it stands: 
One Nation indivisible. 

With liberty and justice for all. 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 

On one of the more modest streets of Indianapolis 
there lived, in 1916, an invalid. He was a man sixty- 
two years of age, with a genial face that had not been 
hardened by his years of suffering. This man, though 
living in a modest home and a confirmed invalid, had 
the rare distinction of being the most beloved man 
in America. While all classes loved him, the children 
loved him most; and fortunately they did not wait until 
he was dead to show their love. One of the nice things 
they used to do was to send him post cards on his birth- 
days. Sometimes he would get, on a single birthday^ 
as many as a thousand cards from school children in all 
parts of the country. 

While he could not answer all these cards, he did his 
best to let them know that he appreciated their kindly 
attention, as the following letter shows : 

"To the School Children of Indianapolis: 

"You are conspirators — every one of you, that's what 
you are! You have conspired to inform the general 
public of my birthday, and I am already so old that I 
want to forget all about it. But I will be magnanimous 
and forgive you, for I know that your intent is really 
friendly, and to have such friends as you are makes me — 
don't care how old I am! In fact it makes me so glad 
and happy that I feel as absolutely young and spry as a 



81 




Photograph from Underwood &* Underwood, N. Y. 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 
The "Hoosier" Poet 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 83 

very schoolboy — even as one ot you — and so to all intents 
I am. 

"Therefore let me be with you throughout the long, 
lovely day, and share your mingled joys and blessings 
with your parents and your teachers, and, in the words 
of little Tim Cratchit: 'God bless us, every one.' 
Ever gratefully and faithfully 
Your old friend, 

James Whitcomb Riley." 

On one of his birthdays the school children of Indian- 
apolis decided to march in a great throng by his house 
and greet him as he sat by his window in an invalid's 
chair. To their sorrow, when this birthday came it rained 
hard all day — so hard that they could not think of going 
out in the storm. But in the high school was a group 
of pupils who decided that no storm could keep them 
from showing their love. Accordingly, early in the 
evening, in the pouring rain, they gathered about his 
home and in clear, ringing tones sang several of his beau- 
tiful poems that had been set to music. So delighted 
was the great poet that he invited them in and they 
packed his large sitting room. And what an hour they 
had together! As they sang he forgot his suffering and 
was young again. Before they left he recited several of 
his poems in such a pleasing and impressive manner that 
I am sure those present will never forget it. One of these, 
and one which is a great favorite, is entitled The Old 
SwimmiTi'-Hole. 



84 MODERN AMERICANS 

THE OLD SWIMMIN'-HOLE 

Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! Whare the crick so still and deep 

Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep, 

And the gurgle of the worter round the drift jest below 

Sounded like the laugh of something we onc't ust to know 

Before we could remember anything but the eyes 

Of the angels lookin' out as we left Paradise; 

But the merry days of Youth is beyond our controle, 

And it's hard to part ferever with the old swimmin'-hole. 

Oh! the old smmmin'-hole! In the happy days of 3'ore, 

When I ust to lean above it on the old sickamore, 

Oh ! it showed me a face in its warm sunny tide 

That gazed back at me so gay and glorified, 

It made me love myself, as I leaped to caress 

My shadder smilin' up at me with sich tenderness. 

But them days is past and gone, and old Time's tuck his toll 

From the old man come back to the old swimmin'-hole. 

Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! In the long, lazy days 
When the htun-drum of school made so many run-a-ways, 
How pleasant was the jumey down the old dusty lane, 
Whare the tracks of our bare feet was all printed so plane 
You could tell by the dent of the heel and the sole 
They was lots o' fun on hands at the old swimmin'-hole. 
But the lost joys is past! Let your tears in sorrow roll 
Like the rain that ust to dapple up the old swimmin'-hole. 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 85 

Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! When I last saw the place, 
The scenes was all changed, like the change in my face; 
The bridge of the railroad now crosses the spot 
Whare the old divin'-log lays sunk and fergot. 
And I stray down the banks whare the trees ust to be — ■ 
But never again will theyr shade shelter me! 
And I wish in my sorrow I could strip to the soul, 
And dive off in my grave like the old swimmin'-hole. 

Though Mr. Riley is no longer with us, he still has the 
same big place in our hearts. Why do we love him so.^ 
Is it not because he was able to reach our hearts as few 
have done; because he was able in all his poems to speak 
the word that we needed most? 

James Whitcomb Riley was born at Greenfield, 
Indiana, in 1853. His father was a lawyer and farmer 
combined. While he did the legal work of the village, 
he also owned a farm at the edge of town. As he was a 
good speaker he was in constant demand in that part of 
the state to speak on all kinds of occasions. Gene;;ally, 
on these trips, he took young James along; thus it was 
that the lad acquired a desire to travel that it took years 
of his after life to satisfy. 

It was from his mother that James received his 
talent for writing poetry. Though never a poet, she was 
exceedingly apt, as were all her people, in writing 
rhymeSo The beautiful tributes that Riley, later in life, 
paid his mother show that she always understood and 
helped him. 



86 MODERN AMERICANS 

Greenfield, during the boyhood days of Riley, was 
not the kind of town we think of as producing poets. 
There were no mountains to kindle the imagination, 
and no babbling brooks to encourage meditation. In 
every direction were broad stretches of level land largely 
covered with forests that still remained untouched. 
Between these forest stretches were patches of land that 
were cultivated by hand; for at that time there was but 
little farm machinery. The greatest single task of the 
people was to clear the forests and bring the soil under 
cultivation. Greenfield was, therefore, in part an agri- 
cultural town and in part a lumber town. Like most 
small towns, it was slow-moving and uninteresting. 
The scenes most frequented were the loafing places. 

As there was very little in Greenfield for a lad to do, 
James' father very often pressed him into service plant- 
ing and cultivating corn, but he never liked it. While at 
first we are inclined to regret this, we wonder, had farm 
life appealed to him, whether he would have made a great 
poet. 

Years later in speaking of his lack of experience in 
real farm life Mr. Riley says: "Sometimes some real 
country boy gives me the round turn on some farm 
points. For instance, here comes one slipping up to 
me, 'You never lived on a farm,' he says. 'Why not'.^ 
says I. 'Well,' he says, 'a turkey-cock gobbles, but he 
doesn't ky-ouck as your poetry says.' He has me right 
there. It's the turkey-hen that ky-oucks. 'Well, you'll 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 87 

never hear another turkey-cock of mine ky-ouckin^ says 
I. But generally I hit on the right symbols. I get the 
frost on the pumpkin and the fodder in the shock; and I 
see the frost on the old axe they split the pumpkins with 
for feed, and I get the smell of the fodder and the cattle, 
so that it brings up the right picture in the mind of the 
reader." 

James never enjoyed his earlier experiences in school. 
When he should have been studying his history and 
arithmetic lessons he busied himself with writing rhymes. 
Later in life he was very sorry that he had not persevered 
in his regular school work. There were some things in 
school, however, that he did exceptionally well. Few 
boys in that part of the state could recite poetry as well 
as he, and he was always called on to speak pieces at the 
school entertainments. Though some of his teachers 
were inclined to neglect him, he had one teacher who 
understood him and took a great interest in him. The 
name of this teacher was Mr. Lee O. Harris, and Mr. 
Riley never tired of saying good things about him. The 
fact that Mr. Harris loved literature and had some 
poetic ability of his own made it possible for him to see 
in James powers that others did not see, and to encourage 
him when others discouraged him. 

After leaving school James had some experiences that 
were so unusual and yet so very interesting that I am 
sure we should be delighted to have him, in his own 
delightful manner, tell us about them. 



SS MODERN AMERICANS 

"I tried to read law with my father, but I didn't seem 
to get anywhere. Forgot as diligently as I read; so what 
was the use. I had learned the sign-painter's trade, but 
it was hardly what I wanted to do always, and my 
health was bad — very bad. 

"A doctor here in Greenfield advised me to travel. 
But how in the world was I to travel without money. It 
was just at this time that the patent-medicine man came 
along. He needed a man, and I argued this way: *This 
man is a doctor, and if I must travel, better travel with 
a doctor.' He had a fine team and a nice looking lot of 
fellows with him; so I plucked up courage to ask if I 
couldn't go along and paint his advertisements for him. 

"I rode out of town without saying goodbye to any- 
one, and though my patron wasn't a doctor with a diploma, 
as 1 found out, he was a mighty fine man, and kind to his 
horses, which was a recommendation. He was a maa of 
good habits, and the whole company was made up of 
good straight boys. 

"My experience with him put an idea into my head — 
a business idea, for a wonder — and the next year I went 
down to Anderson and went into partnership with a 
young fellow to travel. We organized a scheme of adver- 
tising with paint, and we called our business 'The Graphic 
Company.' We had five or six young fellows, all musi- 
cians, as well as handy painters, and we used to capture 
the towns with our music. One fellow could whistle like 
a nightingale, another sang like an angel, and another 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 89 

played the banjo. I scuffled with the violin and guitar. 

"Our only dissipation was clothes. We dressed loud. 
You could hear our clothes an incalculable distance. We 
had an idea it helped business. Our plan was to take one 
£rm of each business in town, painting its advertisement 
on every road leading to town. 

"You've heard the story about my traveling all over 
the state as a blind sign-painter.'* Well, that started 
this way: One day we were in a small town, and a great 
crowd was watching us in breathless wonder and cur- 
iosity; and one of our party said; 'Riley, let me introduce 
you as a blind sign-painter.' So just for the mischief I 
put on a crazy look in the eyes, and pretended to be 
blind. They led me carefully to the ladder, and handed 
me my brush and paints. It was great fun. I'd hear 
them saying as I worked, 'That feller ain't blind.' 'Yes 
he is; see his eyes.' 'No, he ain't, I tell you; he's playin' 
off.' 'I tell you he is blind. Didn't you see him fall over 
a box and spill all his paints?' 

"Now, that's all there was to it. I was a blind sign- 
painter one day and forgot it the next. We were all 
boys, and jokers, naturally enough, but not lawless. All 
were good fellows, all had nice homes and good people." 

When he had spent four years with "The Graphic 
Company" he accepted a position as reporter for a paper 
published at Anderson, Indiana. In addition to his 
reporting work he wrote many short poems in the Hoosier 
dialect that took well. So successful was his work on 



90 MODERN AMERICANS 

this paper that Judge Martindale of the IndianapoHs Jour- 
nal offered him a position on that paper. About the first 
thing he now did was to write a series of Benjamin F. 
Johnson poems. In speaking of this series Mr. Riley said, 
"These all appeared with editorial comment, as if they 
came from an old Hoosier farmer of Boone County. They 
were so well received that I gathered them together in 
a little parchment volume, which I called, 'The Old Swim- 
min'-Hole and 'Leven More Poems', my first book." 

This book met with immediate favor. Speakers from 
east to west quoted from it. All wanted to know who 
the author really was. Modest as Mr. Riley was, he had 
to confess that he had written the book. Other books 
followed in close succession until when he died he had 
written forty-two volumes. But people were not satis- 
fied with reading his books merely, they wanted to see 
and hear him. He, therefore, began in a modest way 
to read his poems before audiences In his native state. 
So delighted were these audiences, for he was a charm- 
ing reader as well as a capable writer, that urgent calls 
came from every state in the Union to come and read for 
them. For a number of years he traveled widely and 
appeared before thousands of audiences, but this kind of 
life never appealed to him. 

Though he never married, Mr. Riley was always fond 
of the quiet of a modest home. Accordingly, the closing 
years of his life were spent in semi-retirement in his cozy 
home on Lockerbie Street, Indianapolis. 



HELEN KELLER 

A little girl was traveling with her father and mother. 
They were going from a little town In Alabama to the 
city of Baltimore. The journey was long and, as the 
little girl was only six years old, she wanted toys and 
playthings with which to pass the time. 

The kind conductor let her have his punch when he 
was not using it. She found that it was great fun to 
punch dozens of little holes in a piece of cardboard and 
she would touch each hole with one of her little fingers, but 
she did not count them because she had not learned how. 

By and by a pleasant lady thought she would make 
a rag doll for the little traveler. She rolled two towels 
up in such a way that they looked very much like a doll, 
and the little girl eagerly took the new plaything in her 
arms. She rocked it and loved it; but something 
troubled her, for she kept feeling the doll's face and hold- 
ing it out to the friends who sat near her. They did not 
understand what was the matter. 

Suddenly she jumped down and ran over to where her 
mother's cape had been placed. This cape was trimmed 
with large beads. The little girl pulled off two beads 
and turning to her mother pointed once more to the 
doll's face. Then her mother understood that her 
daughter wanted the doll to have eyes; so she sewed 
the beads firmly to the towel and the little girl was 
happy. 

91 




Photograph from Underwood b' UnderwooS, ZV. F» 



HELEN KELLER 
'Hearing" Caruso Sing 



HELEN KELLER . 93 

Are you wondering why the little girl did not talk and 
tell what she wanted? She could not. Just think, she 
was six years old and could not speak a word! All she 
could do was to make a few queer sounds. Perhaps, too, 
you wonder why she was so anxious for the towel doll to 
have eyes. I think it was because although she herself 
was blind, she liked to fancy her doll had eyes that 
could see the beauties of the world. To be blind and 
speechless seems hard indeed, but besides lacking these 
two great gifts, this little girl was deaf. Think of 
it! She could not hear, she could not see, and she 
could not talk. 

Yet this sam.e little girl learned to talk. She learned 
to read, with her fingers, books printed for the blind in 
raised letters. She studied the same lessons that other 
children had in school, and she worked so hard that she 
was able to go to college. 

Should you not like to hear Helen Keller, for that is 
the name of the httle girl, tell about herself.? 

She says : 'T was born on June 27, 1880, in Tuscumbia, 
a little town of Northern Alabama. I am told that while 
I was still in long dresses I showed many signs of an 
eager, self-asserting disposition. They say I walked the 
day I was a year old. My mother had just taken me out 
of the bath-tub and was holding me in her lap, when I 
was suddenly attracted by the flickering shadows of 
leaves that danced in the sunlight on the smooth floor. 
I slipped from my mother's lap and almost ran toward 



94 MODERN AMERICANS 

them. The impulse gone, I fell down, and cried for her 
to take me in her arms. 

*'These happy days did not last long, for an illness 
came which closed my eyes and ears and plunged me 
into the unconsciousness of a new born baby. The 
doctor thought I could not live. Early one morning, 
however, the fever left me, but I was never to see or hear 
again." 

From the time of her recovery until the journey of 
which we have been reading, Helen Keller lived in silence 
and darkness. This journey was undertaken in order to 
consult a famous physician who had cured many cases of 
blindness. Mr. and Mrs. Keller hoped this gentleman 
could help their child, and you can imagine how sad they 
were when he said he could do nothing. However, he sent 
them to consult Dr. Alexander Graham Bell, who had 
taught many deaf children to speak. Dr. Bell played 
with Helen and she sat on his knee and fingered cur- 
iously his heavy gold watch. He not only advised her 
parents to get a special teacher for her, but told them of 
a school in Boston in which he thought they could find 
some one able to unlock the doors of knowledge for the 
little girl. This was in the summer, and the next March 
Miss Sullivan went to Alabama to be Helen Keller's 
friend and teacher. 

Let us read how the little girl felt when this kind, 
loving woman came. "On the afternoon of that event- 
ful day I stood on the porch, dumb, expectant. I felt 



HELEN KELLER 95 

approaching footsteps. I stretched out my hand, as I 
supposed, to my mother. Some one took it and I was 
caught up and held close in the arms of her who had come 
to reveal all things to me. 

"The next morning my teacher gave me a doll. When 
I had played with it a little while, Miss Sullivan slowly 
spelled into my hand the word d-o-1-1. I was at once 
interested in this finger play and tried to imitate it. 
When I at last succeeded I was flushed with pleasure and 
pride. In the days that followed I learned to spell a 
great many words with my fingers, among them were 
pin, hat, cup, sit, stand, and walk. 

"But my teacher had been with me several weeks be- 
fore I understood that everything has a name." 

Months and years of happy companionship now came 
to pass for Helen Keller. Every winter she and 
her teacher went to Boston where they had greater 
chances for study than in the little southern town. 
Here Helen learned about snow for the first time and 
all her memories of her studies in these years are 
joined with remembrances of the merry times she had 
after school riding on a sled or toboggan and playing 
in the snow. 

It was when Helen was ten years old that she learned 
to speak. This was a great and wonderful experience. 
Her teacher took her to a lady who had offered to teach 
her. It was not easy for a deaf child to learn to talk, and 
Miss Keller says : 



96 MODERN AMERICANS 

"The lady passed my hands lightly over her face 
and let me feel the position of her tongue and lips when 
she made a sound. I was eager to imitafi every motion, 
and In an hour had learned to make the sounds of M, P, 
A, S, T, I. In all I had eleven lessons. I shall never 
forget the surprise and delight I felt when I uttered my 
first connected sentence, 'It is warm,' After that my 
work was practise, practise, practise. Discouragement 
and weariness cast me down frequently; but the next 
moment the thought that I should soon be "at home and 
show my loved ones what I could do spurred me on and 
I thought, 'My little sister will understand me now.^ 
When I had made speech my own, I could not wait to go 
home. My eyes fill now as I think how my mother 
pressed me close to her, taking in every word I spoke, 
while little Mildred kissed my hand and danced." 

Now a new world was indeed open to the bright girl 
who was so anxious to learn. She finished studies similar 
to those taught in the eight grades of our schools and 
began to prepare for college. Miss Sullivan was still with 
her and, although she had for a tutor a kind, patient 
man who taught her algebra, geometry, and Greek, it 
was Miss Sullivan w^ho sat beside her and talked into 
the girl's hands the tutor's explanations and made it 
possible for her to enter Radcliffe College in Cambridge, 
Massachusetts. 

While at college Miss Keller, with Miss Sullivan, 
attended classes and followed the lessons through the 



HELEN KELLER 97 

help of this noble teacher who gave some of her best 
years to training her pupil. College life brought many 
pleasures and interests into Helen Keller's life, and when 
she finished her work there, it scarcely seemed possible 
that the bright, informed young woman had ever been 
kept a prisoner by darkness and silence. 

Today Miss Keller often appears in public and tells 
to large audiences some of her thoughts and opinions. 
She is a pleasant-faced, rather serious woman and, while 
her voice has a hoarse sound, quite different from the 
usual tones of the human voice, it is possible to under- 
stand her very well indeed. Her teacher is still with her 
as a companion and it would be hard to say who has 
worked the harder in the past years of study. Miss 
Keller or her devoted friend. 

Upon being asked what were her greatest pleasures 
Helen Keller named reading, out-door sports, playing 
with her pet dogs, and meeting people. What she says 
about each of these pleasures is so interesting that you 
will surely be glad to read it and see, perhaps, if you and 
she, by any chance, think alike. 

She says, "Books have meant so much more to me 
than to many others who can get knowledge through 
their eyes and ears. My book friends talk to me 
with no awkwardness, and I am never shut away 
from them; but reading is not my only amusement. I 
also enjoy canoeing and sailing. I like to walk on coun- 
try roads. Whenever it is possible my dog accompanies 



98 MODERN AMERICANS 

me on a sail or a walk. I have had many dog friends. 
They seem to understand me, and always keep close 
beside me when I am alone, I love their friendly ways, 
and the eloquent wag of their tails. I have often been 
asked, *Do not people bore you ?' I do not understand 
what that means. A hearty handshake or a friendly letter 
gives me genuine pleasure." 

But it has not always been easy for her to be cheerful 
and contented. She has had many struggles with sad 
thoughts when she thinks how she sits outside life's gate 
and cannot enter into the light; cannot hear the music 
or enjoy the friendly speech of the world. When these 
gloomy ideas come to her mind she remembers, "There is 
joy in self-forgetfulness," and tries to find her happiness 
in the lives of others. 



'One flag, one land; 

One heart, one hand: 
One Nation over alW"* 

• — Oliver Wendell Holmes. 



. WILBUR AND ORVILLE WRIGHT 

There is a poem called "Darius Green and His Flying 
Machine." In this poem Darius, a country boy says, 
"The birds can fly and why can't I?" A Greek story, 
centuries old, tells how a certain man and his son made 
themselves wings of wax. They flew far out over the 
sea, but the warm sun melted the waxen wings, and the 
two flying men were drowned. 

Today the aeroplanes cut through the air with great 
speed. There are many different designs, and daring 
young men are eager to manage these swift flying crafts. 

However, it is but a short time since two American 
boys made the first successful flights in the United States 
and started a factory for building aeroplanes. Wilbur 
and Orville Wright lived in Dayton, Ohio. Their father 
was a minister, who spent his spare time working with 
tools. Once he invented a typewriter, but it was never 
put on the market. The boys were interested in his 
workshop, and while very young began to find their 
greatest pleasure in making things that would go. 

It was in the year 1879, when Orville was eight years 
old, that his father brought home a toy that made a great 
impression on the boyish mind. It was called a helio- 
copter, but the Wright boys called it "the bat." Made 
of bamboo, cork, and thin paper, it had two propellers 
that revolved in opposite directions by the untwining of 
rubber bands that controlled them. When thrown 



99 




Photograph from Dayton, Ohio, Journal 



ORVILLE WRIGHT 
Joint Inventor of the Aeroplane 



WILBUR AND ORVILLE WRIGHT 101 

against the ceiling, it would hover in the air for a time. 
They made many models of this toy, but after a time 
they became tired of it and wanted to build something 
more difficult. 

Their first venture was a printing press; and when 
Orville was fifteen years of age, they were publishing a 
four-page paper called the Midget. They did all the 
work from editor to delivery boys. 

Just about this time the bicycle craze passed over the 
country. Everyone rode a wheel. Automobiles were 
unknown, and the new machines, that could be ridden 
so fast along the highways, seemed a wonderful invention. 
The Wright brothers had no money to buy a bicycle, so 
they made one. You may laugh when you hear that 
they used a piece of old gas pipe for the frame, but 
nevertheless they succeeded in their undertaking and 
could ride as well on their home-made machine as their 
friends did on expensive, high-grade ones. No doubt 
they had many long rides and great sport with the 
bicycle they had built, but the Wright brothers always 
found their greatest pleasure in making things rath- 
er than in using them. Therefore, it did not seem 
strange to any one when they said they wanted some- 
thing better than a bicycle; but when it became known 
that instead of riding rapidly over city streets and 
country roads they wanted to fly through the air like 
birds, the people were amazed and thought the two boys 
had lost their wits. 



102 MODERN AMERICANS 

So to do this and buy materials with which to build 
their new machine, they opened a bicycle repair shop. 
It was in the shed back of this shop that they first made 
their models of air craft. They had no wealthy friends 
to back them with money. They had no chance to go 
abroad, where clever men were being urged by their gov- 
ernments to make experiments with what the world called 
"flying machines." They were not able to go to college 
or to any school where they could obtain help in work- 
ing out their plan, so they started in to study by them- 
selves what the German, French, and English inventors 
had to say about the art of flying. 

Seemingly, nothing discouraged them. Everywhere 
the newspapers and magazines were poking fun at mad 
inventors who thought men would some day soar through 
the air as birds do. There was a Professor Langley, a 
man much older than the Wright brothers, who finished 
a machine in 1896. It flew perfectly, on the sixth day of 
May in that year. The flight was made near Wash- 
ington, D. C, along the Potomac river for the distance 
of about three-quarters of a mile. He made another 
successful flight in November. Then the United States 
Government urged him to build a full-sized machine, 
capable of carrying a man. He completed this machine 
in 1903 and attempted to launch it on the seventh day of 
October in that year. An accident caused the machine 
to fall into the Potomac. The aviator was thrown out 
and came near drowning. Professor Langley tried to 



WILBUR AND ORVILLE WRIGHT 103 

launch his machine again in December and the same acci- 
dent occurred. The machine was broken. The news- 
papers made cruel fun of Professor Langley; he was 
criticized in the U. S. Congress; and overcome by grief at 
the failure of his great idea he tried no more. Two years 
later he died, crushed and broken in spirit. 

But the Wright brothers did not let any such unkind 
comment hinder their work. They kept on studying 
the flight of birds. Lying flat on their backs they would 
watch birds for whole afternoons at a time, until at last 
they came to believe that a bird himself is really an aero- 
plane. The parts of the wings close to the body are 
supporting planes, while the portions that can be flapped 
are the propellers. Watch a hawk or a buzzard soaring 
and you will see they move their wings but little. They 
balance themselves on the rising currents of air. A 
hawk finds that on a clear warm day the air currents are 
high and rise with a rotary motion. That is why we see 
these birds go sailing round and round. When you see 
one poised above a steep hill on a damp, windy day you 
may be sure he is balancing himself in the air which rises 
from its slope and he will be able to glide down at will. 

The Wright brothers were certain if they could bal- 
ance a machine in the air they could make it go. To find 
out how to do this they made a difficult experiment with 
delicate sheets of metal balanced in a long tube. Through 
this tube steady currents of air were blown. The speed 
with which the currents were sent through the tube 



ilHi 



104 MODERN AMERICANS 

was changed often, as well as the angles of sending. 
Over and over they did this, until they were sure of the 
same results each time. They knew how to plan the 
shape of a surface that would do what they wanted it to 
in the air, and they were soon ready to make a trial flight 
with their aeroplane. 

The United States Weather Bureau told them the 
winds were strongest and steadiest at Kitty Hawk, 
North Carolina, and there they made their first test 
flights in 1900. That year they had only two minutes 
of actual sailing in the air. But they went back the 
next year and the next, learning more each time, and 
working untiringly. 

One day Dr. Octave Chanute, the man who knew 
more than any one else in the United States about flying, 
appeared suddenly at Kitty Hawk. He watched them, 
and gave as his opinion that they had gone farther than 
any one else in this new art. Cheered by his words they 
began to work harder. Now that they could balance in 
the air they must make their machine go. 

It took them a year to learn to turn a corner. Dur- 
ing the years 1904 and 1905, they made 154 flights. At 
last they were ready, in 1909, to make a test for our 
government. The United States said it would p^y 
^25,000 for a machine capable of going forty miles an 
hour. Every mile above this speed would be paid for 
at the rate of ^2500 and for every mile less than this down 
to the rate of thirty-six miles an hour they would deduct 



WILBUR AND ORVILLE WRIGHT 105 

^2500 from the purchase money. The flight was to be in 
a measured course of five miles from Ft. Meyer to 
Alexandria, Va. It was not an easy flight, and it 
w^as considered to be more difficult than crossing 
the English Channel, a feat then engaging the attention 
of Europeans. 

Orville Wright with one passenger made the flight in 
fourteen minutes and forty-two seconds, a rate of speed 
a little more than forty-two miles an hour. Army 
officers then went to him to learn how to manage the 
machine, for even then it was believed the greatest use 
of the aeroplane would be In war. 

When Orville Wright was succeeding in this country, 
Wilbur Wright went to France with one of their ma- 
chines. At first the French people laughed, made 
cartoons of him and his machine, even wrote a song about 
his effort; but he soon rose above all such petty and silly 
things. The French people began to see the progress 
the Americans were making and took hold of the new 
invention more rapidly than any other nation. 

On the same trip, Wilbur Wright visited Italy, 
Germany, and England, making many flights and win- 
ning a large number of prizes. When he returned to 
this country he was overwhelmed with d nners, recep- 
tions, and medals. He made a great flight In New York 
City, encircling the Statue of Liberty in the harbor and 
flying from Governor's Island to Grant's Tomb and 
return, a distance of twenty-one miles. 



106 MODERN AMERICANS 

Not long after these successes Wilbur died, and his 
brother Orville was left to go on with their plans. Orville 
still lives in Dayton, Ohio, and has a large factory given 
over to building aeroplanes. 

Long before the outbreak of the great war he had 
said warfare could be carried on extensively in the air, 
and that we were realizing but a few of the uses of this 
new invention. Although he believes air travel will 
become quite an everyday happening, he does not expect 
it to take the place of the railroad or the steam boat. 
However, he hopes to see the government carry the 
mails by an aerial route, and to go quickly and easily to 
out-of-the-way places. 

At present his greatest interest lies in making an 
aeroplane that is simple enough for any one to manage 
and at the same time can be sold at a low enough price 
for the average person to own. This may not seem pos- 
sible to you, but remember no one ever believed the 
Wright boys would be able to fly, so it would not be 
strange if before many years aeroplanes were used as 
much as automobiles are today. In fact, Orville Wright 
says: "The time is not far distant when people will take 
their Sunday afternoon spins in their aeroplanes precisely 
as they do now in their automobiles. People need only 
to recover from the impression that it is a dangerous 
sport, instead of being, when adopted by rational persons, 
one of the safest. It is also far more comfortable. The 
driver of an automobile, even under the most favorable 



WILBUR AND ORVILLE WRIGHT 107 

circumstances, lives at a constant nerve tension. He 
must keep always on the lookout for obstructions in 
the road, for other automobiles, and for sudden emergen- 
cies. A long drive, therefore, is likely to be an exhaust- 
ing operation. Now the aeroplane has a great future 
because this element of nerve tension is absent. The 
driver enjoys the proceeding as much as his passengers 
and probably more. Winds no longer terrorize the air- 
man. He goes up except in the very bad days." 

Concluding he says: "Aeroplaning as a sport will 
attract women as well as men. Women make excellent 
passengers. I have never yet taken up one who was 
not extremely eager to repeat the experience. This fact 
will, of course, hasten the day when the aeroplane will be 
a great sporting and social diversion." 



^^Life affords no higher pleasure than that of surmount- 

ing difficulties, passing from one step of success to another,. 

forming new wishes a7id seeing them gratified. He that 

labors in any great or laudable undertaking has his fatigues 

first supported by hope and afterwards rewarded by joy.'''* 

— Dr. Johnson. 




Photograph from Underwood ^ Underwood, N^ F. 



ROBERT E. PEARY 
Discoverer of the North Pole 



ROBERT E. PEARY 

Robert E. Peary was born at Cresson Springs, Penn- 
sylvania, May 6th, 1856. When he was but three years 
of age his father died and his young mother moved back 
to her old home at Portland, Maine. Here his boyhood 
days were spent in fishing and swimming in the bay, or 
in roaming over the hills and through the forests. True, 
the fields with their birds and flowers interested him to 
some extent, but the mighty ocean, heaving with its 
mysterious tides and beset with treacherous gales, in- 
terested him most. Never did he tire of the stories of 
danger and hardship as told by the sturdy, adventurous 
fishermen. So eager was he to learn the mysteries of 
the mighty deep that he would sit for hours at a time 
listening to the sailors as they explained the tides and 
shifting winds. Little did he realize in those early days 
that this was precisely the knowledge that he would later 
need in his work as an arctic explorer. 

But the fishermen were not his only teachers; for so 
faithful was he in his regular school work that, at the age 
of seventeen, he was ready to enter college. Bowdoin, 
the oldest and best known college in the state, was 
chosen. Upon his graduation, at the age of twenty-one, 
he was ready to start in life. But where should he go 
and what should he do.^ Odd as it then seemed to his 
friends, he chose the little village of Fryeburg, away back 
amid the mountains of Maine. Here he hung out his 

109 



110 MODERN AMERICANS 

sign as land surveyor. As practically no one In that 
little town wanted land surveyed, he had much leisure 
time which he spent in long hikes over the mountains 
^nd along the trout streams. This experience further 
fitted him for his tasks as an arctic explorer. 

That he had always been an energetic student was 
:shown by his success in passing the United States Civil 
Service examination which he took at the age of twenty- 
five. This examination, given by the Navy Depart- 
ment, was for the purpose of choosing civil engineers. 
Out of forty who took the examination only four passed, 
-and Mr. Peary was the youngest of the four. 

As soon as he had won the rank of Lieutenant, his 
first task was to estimate carefully the cost of building a 
fiuge pier at Key West, Florida. When the estimate 
"was handed in, the contractors said that it could not be 
tuilt for that amount. Since Lieutenant Peary Insisted 
that it could, the government told him to engineer the 
building of the pier himself. This he did so skillfully 
that he saved for the government thirty thousand 
•dollars. 

So brilliant was this success that he was sent to 
IMicaragua to engineer the survey for the Inter-Oceanic 
Canal. Here his experience in equipping an expedi- 
tion, and In managing half-civilized men, further fitted 
iilm for his great work In the north land. 

Prior to this time he seems never to have thought of 
arctic explorations, for he writes : "One evening In one of 



ROBERT E. PEARY 111 

my favorite haunts, an old book store in Washington, I 
came upon a fugitive paper on the Inland Ice of Green- 
land. A chord, which as a boy had vibrated intensely 
in me at the reading of Kane's wonderful book, was 
touched again. I read all I could upon the subject, 
noted the conflicting experiences of the explorers, and 
felt that I must see for myself what the truth was of this 
great mysterious interior." Then it was, as he tells us 
later, that he caught the "Arctic Fever" which he never 
got over until he had discovered the North Pole. As a 
result of this fever he has made nine trips into the 
north land, and these expeditions have consumed so much 
time that, though he had been married twenty-one years 
when he reached the Pole, only three of these years had 
been spent in the quiet of his home with his family. 

Interested as we are in all these expeditions, we are 
most interested, I am sure, in the one in which he reached 
his goal. 

Embarked on the good ship Roosevelt, his expedition 
had no trouble in reaching Etah Fiord on the north coast 
of Greenland. This place interests us because it is the 
northernmost Eskimo village and is within seven hundred 
miles of the Pole. 

In speaking of these Eskimos, Mr. Peary says : "There 
are now between two hundred and twenty and two 
hundred and thirty in the tribe. They are savages, but 
they are not savage; they are without government, but 
they are not lawless; they are utterly uneducated accord- 



112 MODERN AMERICANS 

ing to our standard, yet they exhibit a remarkable degree 
of intelHgence. In temperament Hke children, with a 
child's delight in little things, they are nevertheless 
enduring as the most mature of civilized men and women, 
and the best of them are faithful unto death. Without 
religion and having no idea of God, they will share their 
last meal with anyone who is hungry. They have no 
vices, no intoxicants, and no bad habits — not even 
gambling. Altogether they are a people unique upon 
the face of the earth." 

In his journeys into the far North Air. Peary enjoyed 
many a walrus hunt. How should you like to hunt 
walruses.? Before you answer read the following descrip- 
tion of a walrus hunt: 

"Walrus-hunting is the best sport in the shooting line 
that I know. There is something doing when you tackle 
a herd of fifty-odd, weighing between one and two tons 
each, that go for you whether wounded or not; that can 
punch a hole through eight inches of young ice; that try 
to get into the boat to get at or upset you, — we could 
never make out which, and didn't care, as the result to 
us would have been the same, — or else try to raise your 
boat and stave holes in it. 

"Getting in a mix-up with a herd, when every man in 
the whale-boat is standing by to repel boarders, hitting 
them over the head with oars, boat-hooks, axes, and 
yelling like a cheering section at a football game to try 
to scare them off; with the rifles going like young Gatling 



ROBERT E. PEARY 113 

guns, and the walruses bellowing from pain and anger, 
coming to the surface with mad rushes, sending the 
water up in the air till you would think a flock of geysers 
was turned loose in your immediate vicinity — oh, it's 

great!" 

The Roosevelt after leaving Etah Fiord was able to go 
as far north as Cape Sheridan, about 500 miles from 
the North Pole. Here, on February 15, 1909, the little 
party left the ship for the long journey over a wide waste 
of ice. The army that was to fight the bitter polar cold 
was made up of six white men, one negro, fifty-nine 
Eskimos, one hundred forty dogs, and twenty-three 

sledges. 

For the first hundred miles after leaving the ship 
they were forced to cut their way through vast stretches 
of jagged ice. After twenty-four days of struggle, only 
twenty-four men remained; all the others having been 
sent back. These twenty-four, however, were the 
freshest and strongest. On they battled, always sending 
back the weakest. Finally, when but two degrees from 
the Pole, only the negro, four Eskimos, Mr. Peary and 
forty dogs remained. 

Suppose we ask Mr. Peary, in his own language, to 
describe the final dash to the pole. 

"This was that for which I had worked for thirty- 
two years; for which I had trained myself as for a race. 
For success now, in spite of my fifty-three years, I felt 
trim-fit for the demands of the coming days and eager to 



114 MODERN AMERICANS 

be on the trail. As for my party, my equipment, and my 
supplies, I was in shape beyond my fondest dreams of 
earlier years. My party was as loyal and responsive to 
my will as the fingers of my right hand. Two of them 
had been my companions to the farthest point three 
years before. Two others were in Clark's division, 
which had such a narrow escape at that time, and were 
now willing to go anywhere. My dogs were the very 
best. Almost all were powerful males, hard as nails and 
in good spirits. My supplies were ample for forty days. 

*'I decided that I should strain every nerve to make 
five marches of fifteen miles each, crowding these marches 
in such a way as to bring us to the end of the fifth long 
enough before noon to permit the immediate taking of 
an observation for latitude." 

Usually these marches were for ten or twelve hours, 
and the distance covered averaged about twenty-five 
miles. The dangers encountered are suggested by the 
following: "Near the end of the march I came upon a 
lead which was just opening. It was ten yards wide 
directly in front of me, but a few yards to the east was an 
apparently good crossing where the single crack was 
divided into several. I signaled to the sledges to hurry; 
then, running to the place, I had time to pick a road 
across the moving ice cakes and return to help teams 
across before the lead widened so as to be impassable. 
This passage was effected by my jumping from one cake 
to another, picking the way, and making sure that the 



ROBERT E. PEARY 115 

cake would not tilt under the weight of the dogs and 
the sledge, returning to the former cake where the dogs 
were, encouraging the dogs ahead while the driver 
steered the sledge across from cake to cake, and threw 
his weight from one side to the other so that it could not 
overturn. We got the sledges across several cracks so 
wide thatwhile the dogs had no trouble in jumping, the men 
had to be pretty active in order to follow the long sledges." 

Luckily at the end of the fifth march they were less 
than two miles from the pole. Should you like to know 
how Mr. Peary felt at this eventful hour.^ 

"Of course, I had many sensations that made sleep 
impossible for hours, despite my utter fatigue — the sen- 
sations of a lifetime; but I have no room for them here. 
The first thirty hours at the Pole were spent in taking 
observations; in going some ten miles beyond our camp, 
and some eight miles to the right of it; in taking photo- 
graphs, planting my flags, depositing my records, study- 
ing the horizon with my telescope for possible land, and 
searching for a place to make a sounding. Ten hours 
after our arrival the clouds cleared before a light breeze 
from our left, and from that time until our departure on 
the afternoon of April 7th the weather was cloudless 
and flawless. The coldest temperature during the 
thirty hours was thirty-three degrees below zero, and 
the warmest twelve below." 

Thus it was that after the nations of the world had 
sent out over five hundred expeditions in search of the 



116 MODERN AMERICANS 

North Pole, an American, educated in Old New England, 
schooled in hardship in the United States Navy, planted 
"Old Glory" at the northernmost point of this mighty 
world. To Admiral Peary, then, is conceded the 
greatest scientific triumph of the century and April 
sixth, 1909, is a memorable day in the history of America 
and the world. 



THE AMERICAN'S CREED 

I believe in the United States of America as a govern- 
ment of the people, by the people, for the people, whose fust 
powers are derived from the consent of the governed; a 
democracy in a republic; a sovereign Nation of many 
sovereign States, a perfect Union, one and inseparable; 
established upon those principles of freedom, equality, 
jtistice, and humanity for which American patriots sac- 
rificed their lives and fortmies. 

I therefore believe it is my duty to my country to love it; 
to support its Constitution; to obey its laws; to respect its 
flag, and to defend it against all enemies. 

— William Tyler Page. 



WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN 

In the summer of 1880 three speakers were advertised 
to deliver democratic addresses at a farmers' picnic to be 
held in a grove near Salem, Illinois. When the eventful 
hour arrived, the only person present to hear the speeches 
was the owner of the grove. For an hour the speakers 
waited but no one else came. While each was disap- 
pointed and humiliated, it was a crushing blow to the 
young man who was to speak third on the list. This 
was his home community, and his own neighbors and 
townsmen had thus ignored him. 

For six years he had been away to school, and during 
all that time he made a special study of public speaking. 
So good was he in the art of speaking that his college had 
heaped many honors upon him. He was chosen one of 
the speakers on graduation day, and most important of 
all, he had been chosen to represent his college in the 
annual oratorical contest with the other colleges of the 
state. Now, after all these honors, he had come back 
to his home vicinity, and for some mysterious reason the 
people would not hear him. Surely this was enough to 
dampen the ardor of any ordinary young man and put 
an end to his speaking career. 

It was a hot August day in 1914. On every road 
entering a beautiful Indiana city, strings of automobiles 
were seen hurrying to the city. Farmers, busy as they 
were, forgot their work and hastened to the city. Mer- 

117 



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Photograph from Underwood ^ Underwood, N, Y, 



WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN 
The Great Commoner 



WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN 119 

chants, too, had locked their stores and refused to sell 
goods. Why all the excitement? At the edge of the 
city, in a huge steel auditorium that seated thousands, 
the people were gathering — and such a multitude — 
people as far as the eye could see. Soon the speaker of 
the afternoon was introduced. For two hours he held 
that vast throng as no other man in America and pos- 
sibly in the world could have done. So magnetic was his 
personality and so genuine his appeal that the people 
forgot the heat and gave him the closest possible 
attention. 

Odd as it may seem, the speaker before this vast 
Chautauqua throng was the same man that, years before, 
had tried to speak near Salem when no one would hear 
him. Why the difference? What had he done that had 
made the people so eager to see and hear him? 

To answer these questions it will be necessary to study 
his hfe. Mr. Bryan was born at Salem, Illinois, March 
19, i860. Though he is of Irish descent, his ancestors 
have lived in this country for more than a hundred years. 
Through all these years the Bryans have belonged to the 
middle class. While none of them have been very rich, 
on the other hand none have been extremely poor. 
Though members of the family have entered practically 
every profession, more have engaged in farming than in 
all the other professions combined. 

Fortunately for Mr. Bryan, most of his boyhood was 
spent on a farm. When he was but six years of age his 



120 MODERN AMERICANS 

father purchased a farm six miles from Salem. It was 
indeed an eventful day for young William when they 
moved to the large farm with its spacious farm house 
and broad lawns. From the first the animals interested 
him most. William's father, seeing this, built a small 
deer park. Here the deer, unmolested by dogs or hunt- 
ers, became so tame that the lad never tired of petting 
and feeding them. 

With the abundant, nutritious food of the farm, with 
plenty of fresh air, sunshine, and exercise, William soon 
grew into a sturdy, broad-shouldered, deep-chested lad. 
Those who knew him best say that while the other boys 
always had their pockets filled with keys, strings, and 
tops, his were sure to be filled with cookies and doughnuts. 

William's first day in school was indeed eventful. 
Ten years old and large for his age, he seemed out of 
place in the first grade where the pupils were so much 
younger and smaller. Soon, however, the teacher dis- 
covered that he did not belong in this grade. Though 
he had never been at school, his faithful mother had 
taught him to read so well that he at once took his place 
with pupils of his own age. 

After five years in the public school of Salem he was 
sent to Jacksonville, Illinois, where he attended Whipple 
Academy. From the Academy he entered Illinois Col- 
lege, also in Jacksonville. Mr. Bryan says that the 
thing that most impressed him in college was his tussle 
with Latin and Greek. From the first these dead 



WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN 121 

languages did not appeal to him. Again and again he 
pleaded with his parents to be permitted to drop these 
studies but they insisted on his taking the "Classical 
Course." 

Though he was of ideal size and build for football and 
baseball, neither appealed to him. The only forms of 
athletics that he liked were running and jumping. Only 
once was he able to carry away a prize. This was when 
he won the broad jump with twelve feet and four inches 
as the distance covered. 

It was in speaking contests of all kinds that young 
Bryan took the deepest interest. When he was but a 
green freshman in the Academy, he had the courage to 
enter the declamatory contest. No one worked harder, 
but in spite of his best efforts he was given a place next 
to the foot of the list. Unwilling to yield to discourage- 
ment, he tried again the next year. This time he got 
third place. 

The following September he entered college, and dur- 
ing his freshman year took part in two contests, getting 
second place in each. During his sophomore year, he 
had the satisfaction of winning first place in declamation. 
Then it was that he made his boldest effort. He deliv- 
ered an oration that he himself had written, and again 
w^on first place. After these successes it was not to be 
wondered at that his college elected him to represent the 
school in the intercollegiate oratorical contest. Pitted 
against the ablest contestants of the other colleges of the 



122 MODERN AMERICANS 

State, he was able to win second place, for which he 
received a prize of fifty dollars. 

Suppose Mr. Bryan had decided when he lost his first 
three contests never to try again, thus yielding to 
defeat, do you think he ever could have become the 
famous orator that he now is? 

From Mr. Bryan's picture we see that he is a large, 
good-natured, friendly man. Should you like to know 
how he looked when he was a young fellow? If you 
should, the following from the pen of the lady who after- 
ward became his wife will interest you. 

"I saw him first in the parlors of the young ladies' 
school which I attended in Jacksonville. He entered the 
room with several other students, was taller than the 
rest, and attracted my attention at once. His face was 
pale and thin; a pair of keen dark eyes looked out from 
beneath heavy brows; his nose was prominent, too large 
to look well, I thought; a broad, thin-lipped mouth, and 
a square chin, completed the contour of his face. 

"He was neat, though not fastidious in dress, and stood 
firmly and with dignity. I noted particularly his hair 
and his smile, the former black in color, plentiful, fine in 
quality, and parted distressingly straight; the latter 
expansive and expressive. 

"In later years his smile has been the subject of con- 
siderable comment, but the well rounded cheeks of Mr. 
Bryan now check its outward march. No one has seen 
the real breadth of his smile who did not see it in the 



WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN 123 

early days. Upon one occasion a heartless observer 
was heard to remark, 'That man can whisper in his own 
ear,' but this was a cruel exaggeration." 

Upon his graduation from Illinois College at the 
head of his class, he entered the Union College of Law in 
Chicago where he was graduated at the age of twenty- 
three. Immediately he hung out his shingle in Jackson- 
ville, and waited for clients. Month after month he 
impatiently waited until finally it dawned upon him that 
among the old established lawyers of Jacksonville there 
was no room for an ambitious beginner. Then it was^ 
that he remembered the advice of Horace Greeley,. 
"Young man, go West." 

Accordingly, with his talented young wife he went to- 
Lincoln, Nebraska. Here fortune smiled upon him, for 
so rapidly did he make a place for himself that at the age 
of thirty he was chosen to represent his district in Con- 
gress. 

If any of 3^ou have ever seen the United States Con- 
gress in session you will realize that Mr. Bryan must have 
been very much younger than most of the congressmen. 
Keen, quick, and eager to learn, the young Congressman 
made the most of every opportunity during the four 
years he was in Congress. 

In 1896, or when Mr. Bryan was thirty-six years of 
age, his greatest opportunity came. Then it was that 
the Democratic party conferred upon him the highest 
honor within its power by selecting him as its candidate 



124 ■ MODERN AMERICANS 

for president. Though defeated in 1896, so great was 
the confidence the party had in him, that twice afterward 
his party asked him to run for president. Since he was 
defeated every time, it is only natural to ask what there 
is about him, after all, that is so great. Though the 
American people differ widely in their answers to the 
above query, most of them admit that he towers above 
the rank and file of American politicians in his pronounced 
Christian integrity, in his willingness to sacrifice for the 
sake of principle, and in his ability to move men with 
speech, for no doubt he is one of the greatest orators this 
continent has ever produced. 



U' 



Yoii shall 7iot press down upon the brow of labor this 

crown of thorns. You shall not criicify mankind u-pon a 

cross of gold.''"' 

— W. J. Bryan's Cross of Gold Speech. 



HENRY FORD. 

In the year 1879, there was a sixteen year old boy liv- 
ing in the country near Detroit, Michigan. He was not 
fond of farm work but nevertheless he did his share in 
helping his father, who was a thrifty farmer. Day after 
day, this boy trudged back and forth two and one-half 
miles each way to the school house. In his spare hours 
when he was not farming, he had fitted up a work shop 
for his own use. There was a vise, a bow-string driven 
lathe and a rudely built forge. He had made these tools 
himself and was very proud of them. When he was only 
a small boy, he had made his first tool by taking one of 
his grandmother's knitting needles, heating it red hot 
and plunging it into a bar of soap as he bent it into 
shape. Then he added a wooden handle that he had 
whittled and the tool was done. 

As soon as he had something with which to work, he 
began to take to pieces all manner of things just for the 
fun of putting them together again. He says : "I must 
have taken apart and put together more than a thousand 
clocks and watches." He thought it would be a fine 
thing to be able to make many good watches, and to make 
them all alike. He never realized this dream, but in 
later life he did make a good automobile, he made many 
of them, and he made them all alike. 

" His first step towards this great business undertaking 
happened before he was seventeen years of age, when he 

125 




Courtesy of Ford Motor Company 



HENRY FORD 
In His First Motor Car 



HENRY FORD 127 

left his father's farm and went to Detroit to work as a 
mechanic in a shop. He never returned to the farm, 
although for a time he Hved on some land his father had 
given to him, and conducted a lumber business. All the 
time he was experimenting, and he wanted to make 
something that would go. By the time he was twenty- 
one years of age, he had built a farm locomotive mounted 
on cast-iron wheels taken from a mowing machine. It 
was not designed for any particular use, but was to serve 
as a general farm tractor, and he had great sport running 
it up and down the meadow while the cows fled in terror. 

From that time his chief interest was in building 
wagons to be run by motors. His health was always 
good, he worked unceasingly, and slept just as little as 
possible, and at last, in 1893, he made what people called 
then, a wagon driven by gas; today we call it an auto- 
mobile. It ran but was not a great success, and the 
public made fun of the inventor. This wagon driven by 
gas was the first Ford automobile and the man who 
invented it was Henry Ford. He had married and lived 
in a little house in Bagley Street, Detroit, Michigan. He 
was employed by the Edison Company, but he had a 
workshop of his own in his barn. There he built his first 
motor car. For material he used nothing but junk, as 
he had no money with which to buy costly materials for 
experiments. 

Henry Ford does not know the word discouragement, 
so after his first failure he built another car and in 1898 



128 MODERN AMERICANS 

placed it on the road. It was better than the first one, 
but there were still difficulties to be overcome. People 
laughed more than ever, and Detroit thought him mildly 
insane on the subject of "little buggies driven by gas," 
as the newspapers called them. Then one day, when 
no one was paying any especial attention to him, Henry 
Ford made a car that would run on level ground, would 
run up and down hill, and go backward and forward. 
His problem was solved, and he began to make auto- 
mobiles. Today he is the head of the Ford Motor 
Company which has its largest factory in Highland 
Park, a suburb of Detroit, Michigan, not more than 
fifteen miles from his birthplace. 

At the Highland Park plant, one thousand times a 
day a newborn car pushes open a door by itself and goes 
out into the world. At once these cars are loaded on 
trains and sent away, for the plant has no storage and 
there are always more orders than can be filled. The 
Ford cars are used by many persons, they are all made 
alike and they are made in large numbers. Henry 
Ford's old dream about making watches has come true, 
only he makes automobiles instead of timepieces. 

In his great factory the most improved machinery is 
used, and the business is run on a profit-sharing plan, 
which means that the daily pay of the men in his employ 
increases as the profit of the plantiincreases. A just 
amount is paid to each workman and Mr Ford says: 
"If a man can make himself of any use at all, put him 



HENRY FORD 129 

on, give him his chance and if he tries to do the right 
thing, we can find a living for him any way." Eight 
hours is the length of the working day with extra pay 
for overtime work. The wages in the Ford factories 
have always been above what is generally paid so there 
are always many persons who want to work there. 

However, Henry Ford has two other great interests 
besides automobiles. They are boys and birds. His 
only child is a bright and earnest boy but Mr. Ford does 
not forget other boys in doing for his own. There are 
always a dozen or more boys that he is training and help- 
ing to prepare for life, thus giving to the world strong, 
helpful citizens. 

As for birds, he has built two hundred bird houses in 
the grounds of his home. They are heated with electricity 
in winter so as to keep the birds' drinking water from 
freezing, and by a clever arrangement of tubes, food can 
be sent electrically to each little house. Recently Mr. 
Ford brought from England three hundred and eighty 
song birds not native to the United States. They 
settled down and built nests in his trees and shrubbery. 
He hopes to have them increase and add to the beauty 
of our natural life. 

His interest in birds and out of door life has been 
strengthened by his long friendship with John Burroughs, 
the naturalist, and the two have had many tramps and 
camping trips together. These excursions are Mr. 
Ford's vacations and he likes to take them with this 



130 MODERN AMERICANS 

great nature lover or with his other good friend, Thomas 
A. Edison, with whom he is most congenial. 

Having no bad habits, perfect health, never being 
tired, willing to listen to others, able to decide quickly, 
and world-wide in his interests, Henry Ford is one of the 
twentieth century's greatest public-spirited business 
men. No better illustration can be found than the fact 
that although Mr. Ford did not believe in war and was 
a man of peace, yet when the United States entered the 
World War, he hastened to Washington, offered his great 
factory to the government to make war supplies, and 
began running night and day to furnish our country with 
war-time necessities. If some one wished to choose for 
him a coat of arms they should select, "A file and hammer 
crossed, a warm, glowing heart placed above them," 
while the words, 

"I love, 

I build, '- 

I give." 
should be written underneath. This should be sufficient 
to describe the nature of the kindly, frank and unassum- 
ing man, who, with a large amount of money coming in 
each month, cares nothing for it as money but wishes to 
use it to promote the good will of the world. 



BEN B. LINDSEY 

Late one afternoon a tired judge was seated at his 
bench in the city of Denver. The docket showed that 
the next case to be brought before him was one for 
steaHng. Anxiously he waited for the hardened crim- 
inals to be brought in, when lo and behold! three boys 
hardly in their teens were brought before him. 

When asked what they had stolen, they replied, 
"Pigeons." Beside the boys stood the old man whose 
pigeons had been stolen. To say that he was angry was 
putting it mildly. 

As the boys described the pigeon loft and how they 
came to steal the pigeons, the judge became very absent- 
minded; for his mind went back to the time when he 
himself was a boy and had been in a crowd that had 
stolen pigeons. Odd as it may seem, the judge's old 
gang had, years before, visited this same pigeon loft 
and stolen from this same old man. Little wonder 
then that the judge had a warm place in his heart for the 
boys who were now in trouble. 

But the old man had been annoyed for months, 
had watched hours to catch the boys, and now that 
he had caught them, surely they should be pun- 
ished severely. He was sure the boys should be sent to 
prison. 

What should the judge do under the circumstances? 
Certainly he must see that the pigeons were protected, 

131 



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BEN B. LINDSEY 
"The Kids' Judge" 



BEN B. LINDSEY 133 

for they were fancy stock and the old man made his liv- 
ing by raising them. 

Would sending the three boys to prison protect the 
old man and his pigeons? No, for no doubt the boys 
belonged to a gang, and unless the whole gang were 
caught, the thefts would continue. For a long time the 
judge studied the matter until finally he told the boys, 
that if they would go out and bring in the other members 
of the gang, he would be "white" with them; he would 
give them a square deal. 

The boys eyed the judge critically. Did he mean 
what he was saying.^ The boys liked his looks, for he 
was young and not much larger than themselves. Then, 
too, he did not talk down at them from the bench, but 
had left his bench, sat among them, and talked like one 
of them. 

It wasn't long before the boys were convinced that 
the judge was their friend. He understood them, and 
his heart was in the right place, as they put it. Accord- 
ingly, they went out and brought in the other members 
of the gang. In his talk with the gang, the judge was 
as kind and frank as he had been when talking with the 
three boys the day before. He told the boys how the 
old man made his living by raising pigeons, and he asked 
them whether they thought it was square for them to 
steal his pigeons. They agreed that it was not. 

Then he told the gang how the old man and the 
police had caught the three boys stealing the pigeons, 



134 MODERN AMERICANS 

and he asked them whether they thought it would help 
matters to send the boys to prison. As this remedy did 
nof appeal to the gang the judge asked what should be 
done. After some discussion, the members of the gang 
agreed that the best thing to do was to give the judge 
their word of honor that they would never molest the 
pigeon loft again. Thus it was that the old man's rights 
were protected and at the same time the boys were saved 
from the disgrace of a prison sentence. 

The above is but one among hundreds of instances In 
which Judge Ben B. Lindsey of Denver has shown that 
he is indeed the boy's friend. Since he is the boy's 
friend, all boys are interested in his life. 

Since he was born in Tennessee in 1869, it is not diffi- 
cult for us to figure that he is now in the prime of life. 
As he looks back over his boyhood days he admits that 
he can recall little else than hardship. His father, who 
had been an officer in the Confe'derate army, died when 
Ben was about eighteen years of age. Before the war 
the Lindseys had been Ib comfortable circumstances, 
but so great were the ravages of war that at its close the 
family had l;>st everythingc Ben, therefore, was born 
in poverty. So severe were the hardships in the South 
that the Lindseys came north and finally settled in 
Denver, Colorado. When Ben was twelve, the family 
was so poor that the lad could not go to school. Forced 
to work while yet so young, he had to pick up any odd 
jobs that came his way. For a time he was messenger 



BEN B. LliNDSEY 135 

boy, and then he managed a newspaper route. Since 
he was once a newsboy, is it any wonder that he 
understood newsboys? It is also interesting to know 
that he afterward became a judge in the same city in 
which he used to peddle newspapers. 

Though Ben could not attend day school, he did go 
to night school regularly. As he was not robust, it was 
difficult, however, for the lad after delivering messages 
all day to settle down to hard study in a night school. 
But Ben liked books and was not afraid of hard work. 

A little later he secured employment in a real-estate 
office. Here he had some leisure time. Can you guess 
what he did with it.^ Did you know that about the best 
way to learn whether or not a boy is destined to become 
a great man Is to find out what he does with his leisure 
hours? Ben, now a young man, spent his time in study- 
ing law. To play games or go to shows would have 
been much more interesting than studying great law 
books, but he was determined to climb regardless of the 
cost. Accordingly, at the age of twenty-four, he was 
made a "fuU-fiedged" lawyer. 

In his practice of law there was nothing exceptional 
until at the age of thirty-two he was made county judge. 
For weeks he discharged the usual duties connected with 
his office until one evening a case came before the court 
that changed his entire life. The story is as follows: 

"The hour was late; the calendar was long, and Judge 
LIndsey was sitting overtime. Weary of the weary work, 



136 MODERN AMERICANS 

everybody was forcing the machinery of the law to grind 
through at top speed the dull routine of justice. All 
sorts of cases go before this court, grand and petty, 
civil and criminal, complicated and simple. The petty 
larceny case was plain; it could be disposed of in no time. 
A theft had been committed; no doubt of that. Had 
the prisoner at the bar done it.^* The sleepy policeman 
had his witnesses on hand and they swore out a case. 
There was no doubt about it; hardly any denial. The 
law prescribed precisely what was to be done to such 
'cases,' and the bored judge ordered that that thing be 
done. That was all. In the same breath with which he 
pronounced sentence, the court called for the 'next 
case,' and the shift was under way, when something 
happened, something out of the ordinary. 

"A cry! an old woman's shriek, rang out of the rear 
of the room. There was nothing so very extraordinary 
about that. Our courts are held in public; and every 
now and then somebody makes a disturbance such as 
this old woman made when she rose now with that cry 
on her lips and, tearing her hair and rending her gar- 
ments, began to beat her head against the wall. It was 
the duty of the bailiff to put the person out, and that 
officer in this court moved to do his duty. 

"But Judge Lindsey upheld the woman, saying: 'I had 
noticed her before. As my eye wandered during the 
evening it had fallen several times on her, crouched there 
among the back benches, and I remember I thought how 



BEN B. LINDSEY 137 

like a cave dweller she looked. I didn't connect her with 
the case, any case. I didn't think of her in any human 
relationship whatever. For that matter, I hadn't consider- 
ed the larceny case in any human way. And there's the 
point: I was a judge, judging 'cases' according to the 'law,' 
till the cave dweller's mother-cry startled me into human- 
ity. It was an awful cry, a terrible sight, and I was 
stunned. I looked at the prisoner again, but with new 
eyes now, and I saw the boy, an Italian boy. A thief? 
No. A bad boy.'' Perhaps, but not a lost criminal. 

" 'I called him back, and I had the old woman brought 
before me. Comforting and quieting her, I talked with 
the two together, as mother and son this time, and I 
found that they had a home. It made me shudder, I 
had been about to send that boy to a prison among crim- 
inals when he had a home and a mother to go to. And that 
was the law! The fact that that boy had a good home; 
the circumstances which led him to — not steal, but 'swipe' 
something; the likelihood of his not doing it again — 
these were 'evidence' pertinent, nay, vital, to his case. 

" 'Yet the law did not require the production of such 
evidence. The law? Justice? I stopped the machinery 
of justice to pull that boy out of its grinders. But he 
was guilty; what was to be done with him? I didn't 
know. I said I would take care of him myself, but I 
didn't know what I meant to do, except to visit him and 
his mother at their home. And I did visit them, often, 
and — well, we — his mother and I, with the boy helping 



138 MODERN AMERICANS 

— we saved the boy, and today he is a fine young fellow^ 
industrious, self-respecting, and 'a friend of the Court.'" 

So deep was the impression that this case made upon 
Judge Lindsey that he could not keep from thinking 
about it. As he thought, he made up his mind that 
boys and girls should not be tried in the same court with 
grown people. He also concluded that in trying a boy 
the important thing was not what he had done, but why 
he had done it. To discover and remove the cause of 
the crime was of much greater importance than punish- 
ing him after the crime had been committed. 

Furthermore, he thought it very wrong to put a boy 
in a prison with hardened criminals. He looked upon 
the prison not as a place where men are made better but 
as a school of vice. To send a boy to prison, then, must 
be the last resort. 

While it was not hard for Judge Lindsey to see all 
these things, it was difhcult indeed for him to make the 
people of Denver see them. Gradually, however, he car- 
ried on his campaign of enlightenment until today Denver 
is pointed out as one of a few cities that knows how suc- 
cessfully to handle its boys. With its excellent juvenile 
court and its sane probation laws it has blazed the path 
for other cities to follow. 

And to whom are these changes due? We answer, 
to the man who by dint of hard work struggled all the 
way from newsboy on the streets to judge on the bench 
— ^Ben B. Lindsey. 



FRANCES WILLARD 

Two sisters and a brother lived with their parents 
in the country near what is now the town of Beloit, 
Wisconsin. They had many pleasures in their free, 
healthy life, and they were all fond of writing down In 
diaries accounts of their plays, their hopes, and their 
plans. One day the older of the two girls wrote: 

"I once thought I should like to be Queen Victoria's 
maid of honor; then I wanted to go and live In Cuba; 
next I made up my mind that I would be an artist; next 
that I would be a mighty hunter of the prairies — ^but now 
I suppose I am to be a music teacher, simply that and 
nothing more." 

She never became any of these things, but she did 
grow Into such a wise and noble woman that the entire 
world recognized the good she did and was glad to 
honor her. The little girl's name was Frances Willard, 
and the great ofHce that was hers In later life was the 
presidency of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union. 

Frances' father and mother moved to Wisconsin 
from the State of New York when their children were 
very small. Then the new home seemed to be in the 
wilderness, and the family were Indeed pioneers. Frances 
had a genius for planning the most exciting games. She 
was always the leader of the three, and delighted In or- 
ganizing her willing playmates Into Indian bands, or into 
daring sailors of unknown seas. The other two children 

139 




FRANCES E. WILLARD 

Founder of the 

World's Woman's Christian Temperance Union 



FRANCES E. WILLARD 141 

called her Frank, and were glad to have her "think up" 
wonderful plays. 

One day long before Frances was twelve years of age 
her sister wrote in her journal, "Frank said we might 
as well have a ship if we did live on shore; so we took a 
hen coop pointed at the top, put a big plank across it, 
and stood up, one at each end, with an old rake handle 
apiece to steer with. Up and down we went, slow when 
it was a calm sea and fast when there was a storm, until 
the old hen clucked and the chickens all ran in and we 
had a lively time. Frank was captain and I was mate. 
We made out charts of the sea, rules about how to navi- 
gate when it was good weather and how when it was 
bad. We put up a sail made of an old sheet and had 
great fun, until I fell oif and hurt me." 

So you see they must have had many daring adven- 
tures. Frances longed for a horse to ride, but there was 
none the children could have. This did not discourage 
her in the least. She wanted to ride and so she deci'ded 
to train their pet calf. The calf's name was Dime, a«nd 
Frances said, "Dime is an unusually smart calf, she can 
be trained so we can ride her." So she proceeded to do 
it and the children rode Dime to their hearts' content. 

But all of their play was not out of doors. Mr. and 
Mrs. Willard had brought with them from their old 
home many books, and the children liked to spend hours 
reading in their library. The father and mother taught 
them and encouraged them to study. Frances liked to 



142 MODERN AMERICANS 

write, and, as she was a neat and orderly girl, she did 
not want her books and papers disturbed. In her sister 
Mary's journal we read how she managed to have her 
belongings untouched: 

"Today Frank gave me half her dog Frisk that she 
bought lately, and for her pay I made a promise which 
mother witnessed and here it is: 

"I, Mary Willard, promise never to touch anything 
lying, or being upon Frank Willard's writing desk which 
father gave her. I promise never to ask either by speak- 
ing, writing, or signing, or in any other way, any person 
or body to take off or put on anything on said stand and 
desk without special permission from said Frank Willard. 
I promise never to touch anything which may be in 
something upon her stand and desk. I promise never to 
put anything on it or in anything on it; I promise if I am 
writing or doing anything else at her desk to go away 
the moment she tells me to. If I break the promise I 
w^ill let the said F. W. come into my room and go to my 
trunk or go into any place where I keep my things and 
take anything of mine she likes. All this I promise 
unless entirely different arrangements are made. These 
things I promise upon my most sacred honor." 

As Frances grew older she longed to travel. She had 
a great desire to take a large part in the work of the 
world; but this did not seem possible for two reasons. 
First, she had no money, and in the second place, she 
lived in such an out of the way settlement that a journey 



FRANCES E. WILLARD 143 

to the great cities of the world seemed to be nothing but 
a pleasant dream that would never come true. 

Once in one of these moments of longing, she wrote^ 

"Am I almost of age, 
Am I almost of age, 
Said a poor little girl. 
And she glanced from her cage. 
How long will it be 
Before I shall be free, 
And not fear friend or foe.^ 
And I some folks could know 
I'd not want to be of age, 
But remain in my cage. 



J5 



This was her first poem, and she grew very fond of 
writing and then reading aloud her own efforts. The 
children printed a paper, and Frances was the editor. 
While writing articles to appear in it she would often 
retire to a seat high up in a favorite tree. On the tree 
she hung a sign, 

"The Eagle's Nest 
Beware." 
You may be sure the other children left her undisturbed 
until her important writing was finished. 

But it was not long before Frances went out into the 
ivorld of which she dreamed and wrote, for she was not 
eighteen years old when she began teaching. This 
experience gave her great pleasure. She liked her 



144 MODERN AMERICANS 

pupils and was earnest and enthusiastic. There were 
two questions that she kept always before her pupils: 
"What are you going to be in the world, and what are 
you going tc dc?" Every one who ever had Frances 
Willard for his teacher heard these two questions many 
times, and numerous young people were influenced by 
her to lead earnest, helpful lives. 

During one of her summer vacations, she made the 
acquaintance of a w^arm-hearted, generous girl who be- 
came one of her closest friends. This young girl, of about 
the same age as Frances Willard, had no mother. Her 
father, who was exceedingly wealthy, was deeply im- 
mersed in his business, so his daughter w^as glad to have 
her new friend with her often. 

One day she thought, "How splendid it would be for 
us to go abroad." To think was to act with her, and 
almost before Frances knew it they had started for 
Europe. They remained there three years and during 
that time visited many remote places seldom seen by the 
average person traveling in foreign lands. Frances 
Willard wrote many accounts of their experiences which 
were published in American magazines. 

Upon her return to the United States she lectured 
about her journey and became such an excellent public 
speaker that every one wanted to hear her on any subject 
she chose, so she continued to lecture after she ceased 
giving her travel talks. It is estimated that she spoke 
on an average of once a day for ten years. 



FRANCES E. WILLARD 14S 

Meanwhile, she was made president of a college for 
young ladies in the town of Evanston, Illinois. Later she 
became a member of the faculty of Northwestern 
University in the same community. Here she brought 
wonderful help to her students, and they said of her that 
she was so interesting "she turned common things to 
gold." 

But her life was not to be given entirely to teaching, 
and after a few years she was drawn into the temper- 
ance work. This was then in its beginning. Liquor 
was sold freely In every state, and there were no laws 
regulating its sale or distribution. 

Miss Willard saw the sorrow and suffering caused by 
intemperance and she determined to war against this, 
great evil. Her first work was done with what was. 
called the Woman's Crusade. Bands of women met and 
prayed in front of saloons. Often they asked to hold 
brief services in the saloons and then they urged men ta 
give up drinking. Going to these places and praying in 
public was distasteful to her, but Miss Willard felt she- 
must do so. 

Soon, because of her zeal, the Chicago branch of the 
Woman's Christian Temperance Union gave her an 
office. From that time she rose rapidly from office to 
office in the great organization until she was made 
World President of the International W. C. T. U. in 1879. 
She brought the necessity for temperance before the 
people of the United States as they had never seen it 



146 MODERN AMERICANS 

before, and always she said to them with tongue and 
pen, "Temperance is necessary for God and Home and 
Native Land." 

She went over the entire country speaking to thou- 
sands of persons and turning their thoughts toward the 
great cause. Little by little she gained ground, made 
progress, and could say of the spread of interest: "It was 
like the fire we used to kindle on the western prairie, a 
match and a wisp of dry grass was all that was needed, 
and behold the magnificent spectacle of a prairie on fire, 
sweeping across the landscape swift as a thousand 
untrained steeds and no more to be captured than a 
hurricane." 

Today the results of Frances Willard's work are seen 
in the great and growing interest in prohibition. What 
was to her a dream is coming to pass; what she hoped 
for will, in all probability, soon be a reality, and her 
great achievement lies in having made the question, 
"Shall we permit our homes and our country to be ruined 
by intemperance.'"' one of national importance, a question 
that every citizen of the Unites States must answer. 

In Statuary Hall of our Nation's Capitol, where 
stand the statues of those persons whose deeds have 
earned them the right to fame and honor, there is only 
one statue of a woman. That woman is Frances E. 
Willard. 



JANE ADDAMS 

Not so many years ago a little girl, living in a small 
Illinois town, had a strange dream. She was quite a 
little girl; just old enough to be in the second grade at 
school, nevertheless she always remembered that dream. 
She says, "I dreamed that every one in the world was 
dead excepting myself, and that upon me rested the 
responsibility of making a wagon wheel. The village 
street remained as usual, the village blacksmith shop 
was 'all there,' even a glowing iire upon the forge, and the 
anvil in its customary place near the door, but no human 
being was within sight. They had all gone around the 
edge of the hill to the village cemetery, and I alone 
remained in the deserted world. I stood in the black- 
smith shop pondering on how to begin, and never once 
knew how, although I fully realized that the affairs of 
the world could not be resumed until at least one wheel 
should be made and something started." 

The little girl dreamed this dream more than once, 
but she never made the wagon wheel. However, when 
she was a grown woman she founded and built up some- 
thing that has become a great force for good in the 
largest city of her native state. 

Perhaps you are wondering what she did. She went 
to live in one of the poorest and most wretched parts of 
Chicago. There she furnished her house exactly as she 
would if it had been in some beautiful street. She called 

147 





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JANE ADDAMS 
Founder of Hull House, Chicago 



JANE ADDAMS 149 

her home a Settlement, and invited her neighbors to come 
in daily for comfort and cheer. 

In her description of the street in which she lived 
she says, 

"Halsted Street is thirty-two miles long, and one of 
the great thoroughfares of Chicago. Polk street crosses 
it midway between the stock yards to the south and the 
ship building yards to the north. For the six miles 
between these two industries the street is lined with 
shops of butchers and grocers, with dingy and gorgeous 
saloons, and places for the sale of ready-made clothing. 
Once this was the suburbs, but the city has grown 
steadily and this site has corners on three or four foreign 
colonies." 

It was in the year 1899 that Jane Addams, for that is 
the name of the little girl who dreamed she was to make 
a wagon wheel and help start something in the world, 
began living in Halsted Street, and named her home 
Hull House after the first owner. 

In those early days people asked her over and over 
why she had come to live in Halsted Street w^hen she 
could afford to live among richer people. 

One old man used to shake his head and say it was 
the strangest thing he had ever known. However, 
there came a time when he thought it was most natural 
for the settlement to be there to feed the hungry, care 
for the sick, give pleasure to the young and comfort to 
the aged. 



150 MODERN AMERICANS 

From the very first Miss Addams and her helpers 
made their neighbors understand that they were ready 
to do even the humblest services. They took care of 
children and nursed the sick. They even washed the 
dishes and cleaned the house for some of the poor foreign 
women who had to work all night scrubbing big office 
buildings. 

Besides helping in true neighborly fashion, they 
brought many joys to the people about them. Some of 
these were quite by chance, as once when an old Italian 
woman cried with pleasure over a bunch of red roses 
that she saw at a reception Miss Addams gave. She was 
surprised, she said, that they had been "brought so fresh 
all the way from Italy." No one could make her believe 
they had been grown in Chicago. She had lived there 
six years and never seen any, but in Italy they bloomed 
everywhere all summer. 

Now the sad thing about this story was that during 
all the six years of her stay in Chicago she had lived 
within ten blocks of a flower store, and one car fare would 
have been enough to take her to one of Chicago's beau- 
tiful public parks. No one had ever told her about them, 
and so all she knew of the city was the dirty street in 
which she lived. 

Miss Addams learned that most of the foreigners 
were as helpless as this woman in finding anything to 
bring them pleasure. So Hull House became a place 
where hundreds of persons went. Some joined classes 



JANE ADDAMS 151 

and studied, but at first It was for social purposes that 
the Settlement was used the most. 

The people lived In tiny, crowded rooms and the only 
place they had to gather In celebration of weddings and 
birthdays, and meet each other was the saloon halls. 
These halls could be rented for a very small sum with 
the understanding that the company would spend much 
money at the saloon bar. Because of this custom many 
a party that started out quiet and orderly ended with 
great disorder. So you can see that every one would 
be glad to have Hull House where they could go and 
enjoy themselves comfortably with their friends. 

A day at Hull House Is most Interesting. In the 
morning come many little children to the Kindergarten. 
They are followed by older children who come to after- 
noon classes, while In the evening every room Is filled 
with grown persons who meet in some form of study, 
club or social life. 

But If you should go there now you would find Instead 
of one building, with which Miss Addams began, thirteen 
buildings and forty persons living there to help to teach 
anyone who may come to Hull House. 

There are classes In foreign languages, and one may 
study In the night classes almost any subject that Is 
taught In a high school. Besides these classes there are 
concerts and plays. Hull House has a theater of Its 
own, and the boys and girls of the neighborhood act out 
their favorite dramas there. One story that has been 



152 MODERN AMERICANS 

told frequently shows the kind of plays the boys and 
girls make. Almost every one thinks this play was given 
in the Hull House Theater but Miss Addams writes : 

I have told the story you have reference to several times. It is 
about a settlement boys' club, not at Hull House, who were asked 
to write a play on the origin of the American flag. They were told 
the climax must come in the third act, etc., but were given no outline. 

The play was as follows: The first act was at "the darkest hour 
of the American Revolution." A sentry walking up and down in 
front of the camp, says to a soldier : "Aint it fierce ? We aint got no 
flag for this here Revolution." And the soldier replies : "Yes, aint it 
fierce?" That is the end of the first act. Second act:_ The same 
soldier appears before George Washington and says: "Aint it fierce? 
We aint got no flag for this here Revolution." And George Washing- 
ton replies: "Yes, aint it fierce?" and that is the end of the second 
act. Third Act: George Washington went to call on Betsy Ross, 
w^ho lived on Arch Street in Philadelphia, and said: "Mistress Ross, 
aint it fierce? We aint got no flag for this here Revolution," and 
Betsy Ross replied: "Yes, aint it fierce? Hold the baby and I will 
make one." 

I sometimes tell this with a little more elaboration but I have 
given you what the boys actually wrote. Of course, it has always 
been detailed in the line of a funny story and cannot be taken too 

seriously. 

Very sincerely yours, 

JANE ADDAMS 

Is it not wonderful what Miss Addams has done for 
the people who had no comfort or care? Perhaps she 
has but kept a promise she made to her father when she 
was only seven years of age. 

They were driving through the poor, mean streets 
of her native town of Cedarville, Illinois. She had 
never seen this particular part of the town before, and 



JANE ADDAMS 153 

asked her father many times why persons lived in such 
dreadful places. He tried to tell her what it meant to 
be very poor. She listened eagerly and then exclaimed, 
"When I grow up, I am going to live in a great, big house 
right among horrid little houses like these." 

In her "big house" on Halsted Street many lives have 
been brightened and thousands have found the help 
that started them upon useful careers. 

Jane Addams is one of the noblest women our country 
has had, and she has been honored by Chicago and the 
entire United States for her life of service. 

A member of the English Parliament called her "the 
only saint America has produced," while an enthusiastic 
Chicago man, when asked to name the greatest living 
man in America, answered, "Jane Addams." 

When in Chicago, try to go out to Hull House and 
visit for an afternoon or evening. There are so many 
kinds of activities going on all the time you can see what 
you like best, whether it be gymnastics, acting, music, 
pottery, carpentery, or any of the literary or industrial 
pursuits. 

Later on you will want to read the book Miss Addams 
has written of her experience called, "Twenty Years of 
Hull House." 

^^The union of hearts, the union of ha7ids, and the flag 
of our Union forever J"* 

— G. P. Morris. 




Photograph from Underwood &■ Underwood, N. Y. 



JOHN MITCHELL 
President of the United Mine Workers 



JOHN MITCHELL 

Have you ever thought how common it is for the 
persons who work for others to think that they do not 
have enough pay for what they do? The boy who mows 
the lawn wants more than the landlady is willing to 
pay. Thus it was in 1902 when thousands of coal miners 
in Pennsylvania became dissatisfied with their wages 
and started a great movement to force their employers to 
pay them more. 

On one side were the rich men who owned the mines. 
They, eager to make as much money for themselves as 
possible, were not willing to pay the miners fair wages. 
Furthermore, they would not spend money to make the 
mines safe for the men who worked in them. Accord- 
ingly, the living conditions among the miners were 
wretched indeed. Poorly paid, they were forced to dwell 
in houses that were little more than huts, and were 
required to live on the coarsest fare. So dangerous 
were the mines that accidents were of almost daily 
occurrence; yet nothing could be done as the miners 
were without a leader. True, labor agitators came and 
with silver speech aroused the miners, but they did not 
tell them what to do. 

For a long time the battle cloud grew darker until 

finally the whole nation became alarm.ed. So grave was 

the situation that Theodore Roosevelt, then president, 

vas asked to help avert the crisis that seemed inevitable. 

155 



156 MODERN AMERICANS 

At once the president left Washington for the scene of 
conflict. Day after day he sought among the sullen, 
half-crazed men for some solution of the difliculty, until 
finally he discovered a man big enough to bring order 
out of confusion. 

Mr. Hugh C. Weir, in speaking of this discovery, 
says: "From the inferno of the coal-strike dates the 
cementing of those ties of friendship and comradeship 
which have bound John Mitchell and Theodore Roose- 
velt. The president, plunging into the heart of the 
strike, sought and found the man whose hand held the 
pulse of events. He found him, haggard and white 
with the strain of a great exhaustion, upheld by the 
inspiration of a great purpose, and forthwith John 
Mitchell, coal-miner, son of a coal-miner, came into a 
place in the Roosevelt esteem which few men have 
equaled and no man surpassed. When at the White 
House conference of American governors, the president 
invited as guests of honor those five Americans who, in 
his judgment, ranked foremost in current progress, John 
Mitchell, the labor man, was high in the quintette." To 
have a plain coal-miner thus honored by the President 
of the United States Is so exceptional that we cannot 
help wondering what there was about Mr. Mitchell that 
earned for him such distinction. To discover the source 
of his greatness It Is necessary to study his life. 

John Mitchell was born in the cottage of a humble 
coal-miner at Braldwood, IHInoIs, in 1870. In those 



JOHN MITCHELL 157 

days Braidwood was a dreary, dirty mining town almost 
surrounded by broad stretches of swamp. 

When John was but three years of age his mother 
died. His stepmother, who no doubt meant well, was 
not affectionate; on the contrary she was very severe. 
As they were very poor she had to take in washings, and 
day after day it fell to John's lot to help his stepmother 
with the washings. 

When he was six years of age, his father, the only real 
friend he had in the world, was brought home dead, 
killed in a mine disaster. In speaking of this period in 
his life Mr. Mitchell says: "The poverty and hardships 
that followed were marked by one circumstance that is 
imprinted indelibly upon my memory and which has had 
an impelling influence upon my whole life. My father 
had served a full term of enlistment as a volunteer in 
the Civil War. When he was discharged from the army 
he brought home with him his soldier's clothes, and I 
remember so well that when we had not sufficient bed 
clothing to keep us warm in the cold winter nights, I 
would arise and get the heavy soldier's coat and spread 
it over my little half-brother and myself. When we 
were snug and warm beneath it I would feel so happy and 
proud that my father had been an American soldier. 
And through all the years that have passed since then I 
have felt that same pride in the memory of my father, 
and in the love of country which, along with a good 
name, was our sole heritage from him." 



158 MODERN AMERICANS 

When John was about ten, his stepmother married 
again. From the first his stepfather did not Hke him, 
and soon he became so cruel that the boy's heart was 
completely broken. With no home, with no one who 
cared for him, the big world seemed cold indeed. 

Finally, unable to stand the abuse of his stepfather 
longer, he gathered his few belongings in a small bundle 
and started out to make his own way in the world. For 
a' boy of only ten this was by no means easy. From 
house to house he asked for work until finally a farmer 
gave him a job. Though the hours were long and the 
work heavy, John stuck to it for more than a year when 
he went to a mine in Braidwood and got a job as braker 
boy. Here he remained until he was twelve when he 
decided to go west. With no money and no friends he 
worked his way by slow stages all the way from Illinois 
to Colorado. He had hoped that mining conditions 
would be much better in Colorado, but found them even 
worse than they had been in Illinois. Unable to earn 
enough to supply the bare necessities of life, the miners 
were suffering hardship and want. 

Thus surrounded by misery, John, though but a lad, 
found himself trying to think out ways of helping these 
unfortunate men and their families, for he could not 
believe that it was right for them to suffer as they did. 

Finally conditions in Colorado became so bad that 
John, then twenty years of age, decided to return to 
Spring Valley, Illinois. Here, for the first time in his 



JOHN MITCHELL 159 

life, he saw a labor union so conducted that it was a force. 
The members of this union, all working men, met each 
week and discussed matters that were of interest to all. 
After discussing the topics they passed resolutions which 
they presented to the mine owners. In this way they 
were able to secure better wages, shorter hours of work, 
and safer mines in which to work. 

In these labor meetings young Mitchell took an 
active part and soon developed ability as a public speaker. 
From the first his advancement in the ranks of organized 
labor was rapid, so rapid in fact that at thirty we find 
Mitchell president of the United Mine Workers of 
America. At the time he became president the organ- 
ization had but about forty thousand members, but 
under his skillful leadership it grew until in 1908 its 
membership numbered over three hundred thousand 
men. Mr. Mitchell is still in the prime of life and is one 
of our most skillful and trusted labor leaders. 

Better to appreciate the worth of the man, let us 
consider the following tribute to him: "He chose to use 
this unusual ability for the many rather than for himself 
alone. It seemed better to him that many thousands 
should eat more and better bread each day than that he 
should have for himself ease and luxury. 

"Andrew Carnegie, beginning as John Mitchell did, 
in poverty and ignorance, made himself one of the fore- 
most men of his time in the finance of the world. Behind 
him lies, as the result of his life work, a better system of 



160 MODERN AMERICANS 

refining steel, innumerable libraries — his gifts, and bear- 
ing his name, — a hundred millionaires and more — his 
one-time lieutenants — and personal wealth so great as to 
tax his gigantic intellect to find means for its expenditure. 
"John Mitchell, In a life much shorter, leaves behind 
him not a better system of refining steel, not a hundred 
millionaires, not innumerable libraries with his name in 
stone over the doors, but better living conditions for 
four hundred thousand miners — more wages, fewer hours 
of labor, less dangerous mine conditions, far-reaching 
laws for greater safety, a better understanding between 
capital and labor." 



^^Let our object be our country, our whole country, and 
nothing but our country. And, by the blessing of God, may 
that country itself become a vast and splendid monument, — 
not of oppression and terror — but of wisdom, of peace, and 
of liberty, upon which the world may gaze with admiration 
forever.^'* 



— Daniel Webster. 



MAUDE BALLINGTON BOOTH 

A pleasant faced little woman was talking to many 
persons in a great hall. She wore a dark dress. On the 
front of it were three white stars joined by slender 
chains. In the center of each one was a blue letter. 
The first letter was V, the second was P, and the third 
was L. Their meaning is Volunteer Prison League. 

The little woman was Maude Ballington Booth, and 
she was explaining the work of this league, for she 
founded it. She said that she had come from England 
to the United States many years ago. Upon reaching 
here one of the first places she visited was a great prison 
in California. There she saw so much sadness and 
misery that she could not rest until she did something to 
help the men and women who were shut behind iron 
bars. 

She began her work by holding a meeting in Sing Sing 
Prison on the Hudson River in the State of New York. 
She told the men that she was their friend and believed 
in them. She declared that there was no one so cast 
down or disgraced that he could not rise and make 
something of himself, if he would only try. Many of 
the men who heard Mrs. Booth that day had no families 
and had even lost trace of all their relatives. She said 
they could write her letters and she would answer. They 
had never before had any one treat them so kindly, and 
so letters by the hundred reached Mrs. Booth. One 

161 




Photograph from Underwood &• Underwood, N. Y. 



MAUDE BALLINGTON BOOTH 

Founder of the Volunteer Prison League 



MAUDE BALLINGTON BOOTH 163 

young man scarcely more than a boy, wrote her thank- 
ing her for the kind letter she had sent him. He called 
her "Little Mother." Soon this title became known, 
and all up and down the prisons of the United States 
men came to talk of the Little Mother and look for her 
coming; for her iirst work in Sing Sing Prison was so 
successful that she went from state to state organizing 
Volunteer Prison Leagues. 

It is not always easy to do right even when one is 
well, happy, and in his own home. Think, then, how 
hard a task the men in prison found it when they became 
members of the new league! The day a man joined, 
he had given to him a white button with a blue star and 
in the middle of the star was "Look Up and Hope." 
He promised to do five things : 

1. He would pray every morning and night. 

2. He would read faithfully in the little Day Book the 
league sent him. 

3. No bad language should soil his lips. 

4. He would keep the rules of the prison. 

5. He would try to encourage others, too, in nght doing, 
and when possible get new m^embers for the league. 

From the moment a man put on a button, his guards 
and fellow prisoners watched to see if he would keep his 
promise. A framed copy of what he promised to do 
was hung in his cell as a daily reminder. If a man was 
strong enough to accept these five conditions, he cam.e 
to be a changed person. He wanted to do right, and he 



164 MODERN AMERICANS 

looked forward to the time when he would be free and 
could once more try anew in the big world. 

Many persons told Mrs. Booth her plan would never 
work, but one by one men began to prove that it did. 
First there were dozens, then there were hundreds of men 
returning to their homes or going out to succeed in the 
business world. 

By and by Mrs. Booth saw there should be places 
where the men with no families could go when they left 
prison. So she started "Hope Halls." These are homes 
in the different large cities of the United States. The 
Volunteer Prison League has officers who manage them 
but the general public is never told where these houses 
are. 

In bygone days many men upon leaving prison have 
been led away by old evil companions. Others have 
found no place to stay and no work open for them 
because a cold, unthinking public had called them "jail 
birds." Mrs. Booth wanted these men to have a chance. 
Today a man who belongs to the league can, upon leav- 
ing prison, be directed to the nearest Hope Hall. There 
he can stay in comfortable quarters until he gets work. 
Kind friends help him and many business firms have 
come to take the w^ord of the manager of Hope Hall. 
They give the man work and he goes out to take his 
place as a man among men. 

Mrs. Booth has given her life to building up this 
league, and for many years earned all the money that 



MAUDE BALLINGTON BOOTH 165 

was needed for running expenses. She did this by 
writing, and speaking in public. Everywhere she went 
the people listened to her story and many were glad to 
help her. 

Although we claim her as an American, Maude 
Ballington Booth was born in a pretty little English 
village. Her father was the rector of the little church, 
and her mother was a loving woman devoted to her 
home. She died when Maude was fifteen years of age 
and on the moss-covered stone that marks her grave are 
the words: "They that be wise shall shine as the bright- 
ness of the firmament, and they that turn many to right- 
eousness, as the stars forever and ever." 

From such a home the young girl went to London. 
There she met Ballington Booth, son of General Booth, 
founder of the Salvation Army. They were married 
and she came to the United States with him to interest 
Americans in the cause of the Salvation Army. This 
was a hard task. Oftentimes the army was jeered openly. 
The Booths were actually stoned while holding meetings 
in the streets. But this did not stop them. Their work 
grew, and at last they founded the Volunteers of America 
and became the head of this order. 

The busiest persons generally have time to do many 
things. So it was with Maude Ballington Booth, for 
she wrote a number of books about her work with 
prisoners, as well as lovely fairy tales for her little boy 
and girl. These children missed their mother very much 



166 MODERN AMERICANS 

when she went away to speak, so the next best thing to 
having her at home was to have the stories she made for 
them. These stories were sure to have accounts of pet 
animals in them, suggesting to the Booth children their 
own pets, and the following description of Snowball 
shows how well Mrs. Booth could picture the feelings of 
an insulted pussy cat. 

"The three children seated themselves by the stately 
white cat; slowly the ragged coat was opened and out 
sprang a frisky plebian kitten right under the Angora's 
aristocratic nose. What a picture it was. The little 
black kitten startled and dazed by the light and warmth, 
and a great prince of a cat towering over her. Snowball 
was frozen into an attitude of horror at the unexpected 
apparition. Every hair stood erect and his back looked 
like a deformed hunch, while his yellow eyes flashed fire. 

" 'Naughty, naughty Snowball,' called Baby, when 
the cats had gazed at each other for a full minute. 'It's 
little, and it's cold and it's hungry.' 

"Whatever he thought of Baby's reproof. Snowball 
did think it was time to act, and like a flash the white 
paw darted at the oflfending kitten's ear, and, I am 
ashamed to say, he spit most crossly in its frightened 
Httle face, then at one bound he sprang to the mantle- 
piece and sat there growling. The children looked dis- 
mayed ; the little kitten stood looking up at its unsociable 
host with a sweet, questioning little face, uttering mild 
little mews of protest in answer to his thunderous growls. 



MAUDE ABLLINGTON BOOTH 167 

"Then Brown Eyes' wrath broke, and folding the kit- 
ten in loving arms, he said to Snowball, 'You bad, ungrate- 
ful ill natured cat, I am surprised at you, petted and cud- 
dled and fed on good things, you turn and spit at a poor 
little kitten, who only looked up into your face and asked 
you to love it. We'll go away and leave you. You can 
stay there, and we'll get a saucer of cream for this kitten 
who is far nicer than you, cross cat; you bad cat, we'll 
leave you to yourself.' 

"Left to himself Snowball repented but, alas! the door 
was shut. The merry voices that resounded through 
the house did not call him, while through the still room 
sounded the voice of his taunting enemy, that hateful 
clock, the words of which his conscience could so well 
interpret, 'Cross cat, bad cat, bad cat.' " 

For years Mrs. Booth went from place to place 
throughout the United States raising money for the 
Volunteer Prison League, but when her father died he 
left her a small fortune. Now she uses this money for 
the great cause she loves, and is spared the hard work of 
traveling and speaking. Those who have heard her, 
remember a small woman with a soft, beautiful voice. 
This voice urged the world not to look at trouble and 
failure, but to lend a helping hand to men and women 
who want to lead a better life by following the stars of 
hope. 




Photograph from Underwood &■ Underwood, N. ¥• 



ANDREW CARNEGIE 
Founder of Many Libraries 



ANDREW CARNEGIE 

Have you a library in your town? What is it called? 
Should you like to know why Andrew Carnegie decided 
to spend millions and millions of dollars in building 
beautiful libraries in this country and Scotland? I should 
like to tell you, for the story is very interesting. 

Mr. Carnegie was born in far away Scotland in the 
year 1835. His father was a poor man who earned his 
living by weaving linen by hand. Soon machines were 
invented for the weaving of linen. As these machines 
could weave more cheaply, those who had made a living 
by hand weaving were thrown out of work. "Andie's" 
father was thus thrown out of employment and, hard- 
ly knowing which way to turn, decided to come to 
America. 

Accordingly, when Andie was seven years of age, in 
company with his parents and brother, he came to this 
land of promise. In a land so large, it was not an easy 
matter for them to decide where to live. Finally they 
decided to settle in Allegheny City, just across the river 
from Pittsburg. 

After the home was settled, one of the first questions 
to be solved was, whether Andie should go to school or 
go to work. But what could a boy so small do? He 
could be a bobbin boy in a big factory, he was told. So 
as bobbin boy, we soon see him earning his first money. 
Can you guess what his first wages were? From early 

169 



170 MODERN AMERICANS 

morning until late at night he worked and, for c: whole 
week's work received but one dollar and twenty cents. 

So faithful and energetic was he, that he was soon 
promoted to engine-boy at a salary of a dollar and eighty 
cents a week. While the increase in salary pleased him, 
the work was not so pleasant, for he had to work in a 
damp cellar away from fresh air and sunlight. Then, 
too, he was alone most of the time. 

It was while he was engine-boy that an event happened 
that caused him later in life to build libraries. Suppose we 
invite Mr. Carnegie, in his own language, to tell us about it. 

"There were no fine hbraries then, but in Allegheny 
City, where I lived, there was a Colonel Anderson, who 
was well-to-do and of a philanthropic turn. He an- 
nounced, about the time I first began to work, that he 
would be in his library at home, every Saturday, ready 
to lend books to working boys and men. He had only 
about four hundred volumes, but I doubt if ever so few 
books were put to better use. Only one who has 
longed, as I did, for Saturday to come, that the spring of 
knowledge might be opened anew to him, can imagine 
what Colonel Anderson did for me and other boys of 
Allegheny City. Quite a number cf them have risen to 
eminence, and I think their rise can be traced easily to 
this splendid opportunity." 

No doubt it was the kindness of Colonel Anderson 
that prompted Mr. Carnegie, later in life, to bestow his 
wealth for the founding of libraries. 



ANDREW CARNEGIE 171 

Since the work as engine-boy had never appealed to 
Andie, he was deHghted when another promotion was- 
earned. This time he was made messenger boy in a 
telegraph office in Pittsburg at a salary of two dollars 
and fifty cents a week. In speaking of this period Mr- 
Carnegie said: "If you want an idea as to heaven oa 
earth, imagine what it is to be taken from a dark cellar, 
where I fired the boiler from morning until night, and 
dropped into an office, where light shone from all sides,, 
with books, papers, and pencils in profusion around me, 
and oh, the tick of those mysterious brass instruments 
on the desk, annihilating space and conveying intelligence 
to the world. This was my first glimpse of paradise, 
and I walked on air." 

Fortunately, the man in charge of the office, a Scotch- 
man by the name of James Reid, took a liking to the, 
Scotch lad and began to help him by teachiiig him 
telegraphy. Accordingly, during the leisure moments 
when Andie had no messages to deliver he studied so- 
diligently that in a remarkably short time he became a 
skillful telegraph operator. 

At this time his father died, leaving the support ct 
the family to Andie. To support them he must earn 
more money, and so he left his job as messenger boy to 
become a telegraph operator on the Pennsylvania rail- 
road. While thTis -engaged as an operator he invented a 
system of train dispatching that, each year, saved the 
company thousands of dollars. This invention attracted 



172 MODERN AMERICANS 

the attention of the railroad officials to young Carnegie, 
and he was made private secretary to Colonel Scott, 
vice-president of the road, and a little later was made 
superintendent of the Western division of the Pennsyl- 
vania railroad, all before he was thirty years of age. 

It was while he was superintendent of the railroad 
that Mr. Woodruff, the inventor of the sleeping car, 
came to him with the invention. Mr. Carnegie listened 
to a description of the proposed cars. He saw that the 
idea was good and adopted it at once. Thus it was that 
on Mr. Carnegie's division of the Pennsylvania railroad 
the first sleeping cars in the United States were run. 

Prior to this time all the railroad bridges had been 
made of wood; but it occurred to Carnegie that bridges 
should be made of steel, rather than wood. Accord- 
ingly, he organized the Keystone Bridge Company that 
built the first steel bridge across the Ohio River. As the 
bridge business grew, Mr. Carnegie decided that he could 
make more money by making his own steel for the bridges. 
To do this he organized a company and built the Union 
Iron Mills. So profitable were these mills that in a short 
time he purchased the Edgar Thompson Steel Rail Mill 
and the Homestead Steel Works. Gradually his business 
grew until in 1901, when he retired, his payroll exceeded 
eighteen million dollars a year, and he received two hun- 
dred and fifty millions for his share of the business. 

But, I hear you ask, "How could he earn so much 
money? How did he get the money to start these great 



ANDREW CARNEGIE 173 

enterprises?" From the first he was economical and 
saved every penny possible; and fortunately for him his 
investments were always profitable, as the following 
examples will show. 

When he was a telegraph operator, his friend, Mr. 
Scott, urged him to buy ten shares in the Adams Express 
Company for six hundred dollars. As Mr. Carnegie was 
able to get together but five hundred dollars, Mr. Scott 
lent him the extra hundred, and the investment was 
made. Soon these shares were yielding large dividends,, 
which Mr. Carnegie carefully saved. 

Already I have told you how Mr. Woodruff, the 
inventor of the sleeping car, came to Mr. Carnegie to get 
him to try out these cars. So enthusiastic was Mr. 
Carnegie over the invention, that he organized the 
Woodruff Sleeping Car Company, and borrowed money 
from every possible source to finance the enterprise. 
Here, too, he met with a degree of success that was far 
beyond his fondest expectations. 

Suppose we invite Mr. Carnegie to tell us about his 
third investment. He says: "In company with several 
others, I purchased the now famous Story farm, on Oil 
Creek, Pennsylvania, where a well had been bored and 
natural oil struck the year before. This proved a very 
profitable investment. When I first visited this famous 
well, the oil was running into the creek where a few 
flat-bottomed scows lay filled with it, ready to be floated 
down the Allegheny River on an agreed upon day each 



174 AIODERN AMERICANS 

week, when the creek was flooded by means of a tem- 
porary dam. This was the beginning of the natural-oil 
"business. We purchased the farm for forty thousand 
"dollars, and so small was our faith in the ability of the 
earth to yield, for any considerable time, the hundred 
barrels per day which the property was then producing, 
that we decided to make a pond capable of holding one 
liundred thousand barrels of oil, which we estimated 
would be worth, when the supply ceased, one million dollars. 
"Unfortunately for us, the pond leaked fearfully. 
^Evaporation also caused much loss, but we continued to 
run the oil in to make the loss good day by day, until 
several hundred thousand barrels had gone in this 
■fashion. Our experience with the farm is worth reciting: 
its value rose to five million dollars, and one year it paid 
in cash dividends one million dollars." Surely this was 
a very profitable investment. 

But most of Mr. Carnegie's money was made in the 
«teel business, and, you ask how this was done. 

Prior to 1868 the process of making iron into steel had 
been extremely expensive. In that year Mr. Carnegie 
introduced a method for making steel known as the 
Bessemer process. For years his mills had a monoply 
•of the process; and, as it reduced the cost of making steel 
by more than half, he made vast sums of money. 

About all rich men two questions are always asked: 
How did they get their money, and what did they do 
with it? 



ANDREW CARNEGIE 175 

While Mr. Carnegie may be justly criticized for some 
of the methods he adopted in getting his money, few can 
criticize the beautiful spirit that he has shown in giving 
it away. So liberal has he been that in a single year he 
gave away one hundred and twelve million dollars. 
Some of his more notable gifts are ^22,000,000 for the 
Carnegie Institution in Washington, ^24,000,000 for the 
Carnegie Institution in Pittsburg, ^15,000,000 for 
Teachers' Pensions, $10,000,000 for Scotch Universities, 
and $^0 000,000 for libraries. 

In the northern part of Scotland is a large and beau- 
tiful mansion known as Skibo Castle. This was Mr. 
Carnegie's country estate, and here he and his wife and 
daughter lived in comparative quiet. In his late years, 
as in boyhood days, he loved to tread on the free heather 
of his beloved country. As the years multiplied, his 
sympathies gradually enlarged and his vision broadened. 
Though some, as they grow old, become sour and crabbed, 
Mr. Carnegie became increasingly optimistic and youth- 
ful in spirit, until death claimed him. 



^^ He is never alone that hath a good hookr 




Photograph from Underwood &■ Underwood, N. Y. 



DR. ANNA SHAW 
Honorary President, Woman's National Suffrage Association 



ANNA SHAW 

When Anna Shaw was four years old, her mother left 
Scotland with her family of small children and started 
for America to join her husband. After a few days' sail, 
a fearful storm arose and the ship returned with great 
difficulty to Queenstown. This was the first impressive 
experience of Anna's life, and she was destined to live 
through many exciting ones. Finally, another ship 
started on the long voyage across the Atlantic and this 
time the family reached the shores of our country and 
m.et the husband and father. Anna remembers his joy 
over their reunion. 

But the next event that stands out clearly in her 

mind occurred after they had lived in the United States 

for a year or more. Her parents did not believe in slavery, 

and were anxious to help runaway slaves gain a place of 

safety and freedom. They had read Uncle Tom's Cabin 

aloud to their children, so Anna w^as not surprised when 

one day she went into the cellar on an errand and found a 

negro woman hiding there. The little girl was greatly 

excited and anxious to know just how the woman came 

there and where she was going. But when she told her 

parents of her discovery they became alarmed lest she 

might, through her interest, say things before strangers 

that would disclose their secret. Therefore they kept her 

away from the cellar on one excuse or another, and 

although Anna was sure her home sheltered many slaves 

177 



178 MODERN AMERICANS 

on their journey to a free land, she never again saw one 
or knew anything about the system that helped these 
suffering persons. 

The Shaw home was in a small A'lassachusetts town, 
and there was much happening to engage the attention 
of the children. Anna recalls the first money she ever 
earned. The amount was twent3^-five cents, and she was 
paid that for riding in a Fourth of July celebration. 
After this seemingly great sum of money was hers, she 
and a small sister decided to spend some of it. They 
bought a banana, which was to them a strange and 
wonderful fruit, but they did not like it because they did 
not know how to eat it. They gave it away to a boy 
who quickly removed the peel and enjoyed eating the 
fruit. They were amazed, for they had tried to eat it 
just as they bought it from the dealer. When Anna saw 
their gift eaten so rapidly she was astonished and 
disappointed. 

This incident was to be one of the last memories of 
her New England home, for the family moved to Northern 
Michigan and became pioneers. For toys she received 
at Christmas a small saw and an axe. These were typical 
of the life she was to lead for a number of years. Unlike 
many girls of her age, she had no time to play with dolls 
or sew; she was forced to do a man's work in helping 
with the new home. 

Her father was a kind, gentle man, but very much of 
a dreamer. He did not realize that things must be done 



ANNA SHAW 179 

promptly if a family is to have food and shelter. Once 
he spent weeks reading and planning what kinds of 
grains would be best to sow, but long before he had 
decided, the planting season was over, the young crops 
were up, and the Shaws had none. The mother was not 
strong, yet she did an immense amount of work. As 
she had been highly trained in sewing, she made the 
clothing for the entire family. The two older girls, 
Eleanor and Mary, did the housework and this left Anna 
and her brother to do the rough out-door work. To- 
gether they accomplished this and many other tasks. 
They even made a set of furniture for their simple cabin 
home. 

Indians were all about through the woods, and once 
while out playing Anna saw a band of them going towards 
her home. She hurried back to see her mother giving 
them food. This they took with no thanks and departed. 
But later in the year they returned and brought Mrs. 
Shaw a large supply of venison to show her they appre- 
ciated her kindness. 

Another time a number of Indians stopped at the 
Shaw cabin, and they had been drinking whiskey. 
They demanded food, and it was prepared for them. 
Meanwhile Anna and her brother, fearful lest the liquor 
might excite their guests, managed to go to the attic and 
let down a rope from the gable window. With it they 
drew up all their firearms, one by one. Then at long 
intervals, members of the family would slip away and hide 



180 MODERN AMERICANS 

upstairs where they knew they would be safe unless the 
Indians set fire to the house. 

The hungry guests ate up everything, then stretched 
themselves out and fell into a drunken sleep. The 
Shaw children watched them all night through cracks in 
the attic floor, and when morning came were glad to see 
the Indians sneak away as if they were ashamed. 

Many hardships came to the little family. Their 
cow died, and for an entire winter they had no milk. 
They had no coffee either, but made something they 
called coifee out of dried peas and burned rye. Anna 
was always cold; she cannot remember that the house 
was ever warm enough to be comfortable; still she 
enjoyed life and made up her mind to go to college, to be 
a preacher, and to be worth one hundred thousand 
dollars. She named this amount because it seemed so 
unlikely she would ever have any money. Often she 
would steal away and preach in the woods to an imag- 
inary audience. 

When she was fifteen years of age she began to teach 
school. She had but fourteen pupils, and they learned 
to read from whatever books they could find. The 
result was that their text books were almanacs and 
hymn books. For teaching she was paid two dollars a 
week and board. This latter did not amount to much, 
as often all she had for her luncheon was a piece of raw 
salt pork. Her salary was not paid promptly either, as 
the school authorities had to wait until the dog tax was 



ANNA SHAW 181 

collected because it was from this fund that the teacher's 
salary was drawn. 

The largest salary Anna Shaw ever received for teach- 
ing was one hundred and fifty-six dollars a year, so at 
last she stopped and started to learn the trade of sewing. 
This was very distasteful to her, and she determined she 
would not earn her living with the needle. What she 
wanted to do was to preach. Finally she had a chance 
to give her first sermon, and her brother-in-law, who 
owned the county newspaper, printed this notice: 

"A young girl named Anna Shaw 
preached at Ashton yesterday. Her 
real friends deprecate the course she is 
pursuing." 

This did not discourage Anna Shaw, for she kept on 
working and in 1873 managed to enter Albion College in 
Albion, Michigan. She had earned a little money to pay 
her way, and she intended to get the rest by preaching. 
Her family disapproved so strongly of this step that 
they had nothing to do with her, and it was some years 
before they became reconciled and good feeling was 
once more established between them and the bright 
young woman. 

Anna was twenty-five when she entered college, and 
she had had so much experience in her pioneer home she 
seemed much older. Every Sunday she preached in 
mission churches to congregations composed chiefly of 



182 MODERN AMERICANS 

Indians who sat listening solemnly, while their papooses 
were hung along the walls in their queer little Indian 
cradles. 

From Albion College, Anna Shaw went to Boston 
Theological School, and after a hard struggle with pov- 
erty, was graduated from this institution as a minister. 
She had given to her for her field of labor a little church 
on Cape Cod, that part of Massachusetts that seems to 
stretch forth to meet the sea. Here she was the min- 
ister for seven years. The members of her church liked 
her, and she was always busy helping them in every 
way, from preaching funeral sermons and performing 
marriage ceremonies to helping settle neighborhood 
quarrels. 

There were many amusing episodes in her life. One 
over which she has laughed many times was her purchase 
of a horse. She wanted a horse gentle and safe for a 
woman, so when she went to look at one that had been 
offered her the only question she asked was, "Is she safe 
for a woman.'*" The family who owned her said she was, 
so Miss Shaw bought her. When the errand boy at the 
Shaw residence went out to the barn to hitch up the new 
horse, the creature kicked so that the boy ran from the 
building thoroughly frightened. However, Miss Shaw 
went into the stall and harnessed the horse easily. Soon 
she discovered the truth; the horse was safe for women, 
she liked them, but she would not let a man or boy come 
near her. The only way she could be outwitted was 



Anna shaw 183 

when the errand boy put on a sunbonnet and long 
circular cloak of Miss Shaw's. Even then the horse 
would eye him suspiciously, but did not kick. Miss 
Shaw thought she had made a most peculiar purchase, 
but she became fond of Daisy, as the horse was called, 
just as she did of every person and thing in her parish. 

At last, feeling the need of more training, in order to 
do good in the world, she went to a medical school, and 
after serious scudy became Dr. Anna Shaw. While 
there she became interested in the cause of Woman's 
Suffrage. At that time only a few persons believed that 
women, as well as men, should have the right to vote, 
and anyone saying they should was criticized severely. 

Dr. Shaw -nt to work for this cause with great 
energy and st«' astness of purpose. From 1888 to 1906 
she was clo; -^sociated with Miss Susan B. Anthony 

who was 1 ^ head of the suffrage movement. When 

Miss Antii ■ . massed away. Dr. Shaw became one of the 
great leadcis. In 1906 only four states had granted 
suffrage to women, 

Wyoming in 1869, 
Colorado in 1893, 
Idaho in 1896, 
Utah in 1896. 

Suddenly all over the United States women became 
interested m this cause to which a few devoted women 
had already given years of their lives, and in 1910 Wash- 



184 MODERN AMERICANS 

ington was added to the small list of states where women 
had equal political rights with men. Then in quick suc- 
cession came 

California in 191 1, 
Arizona in 1912, 
Kansas in 1912, 
Oregon in 1912, 
Alaska in 1913, 
Nevada in 1914, 
Montana in 1914, 
New York in 191 7. 

By 191 7 women also had the right to vote for president 
and all offices except the judiciary, in Illinois, North 
Dakota, Nebraska, and Michigan. At that time there 
was partial suffrage for women in Arkansas, New Mexico, 
South Dakota, Iowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Oklahoma, 
Louisiana, Mississippi, New Jersey, Connecticut, Massa- 
chusetts, New Hampshire, Florida and Ohio. In some 
of these states just mentioned, women voted for very 
few offices, but still they had a slight voice in the affairs 
of their state, and a large number of states refused women 
all voting rights. They were Texas, Missouri, Alabama, 
Tennessee, Pennsylvania, West Viginia, Maryland, Geor- 
gia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Maine, Indiana, 
Delaware and Virginia. 

Dr. Shaw's life dream was realized when woman was 
given the right to vote on all questions in every state in 



ANNA SHAW 185 

the union by an amendment to the Constitution of the 
United States, 

Dr. Shaw died in the service of her country at Wash- 
ington, in 1918. 

Like so many of America's noble men and women, 
the secret of Anna Shaw's life has been service to others, 
— doing good to her fellowmen and working always for 
human justive. 



AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL 

^^0 Beautiful for spacious skies, 
For amber waves of grain. 
For purple mou7itain majesties 
Above the fruited plain! 

America! America! 
God shed his grace on thee 
And crown thy good with brotherhood 
From sea to shining sea^ 

— Katharine Lee Bates. 




Photograph from Underwood &* Underwood, N. F. 



ERNEST THOMPSON SETON and WIFE 
Founder of the Boy Scout Movement 



ERNEST THOMPSON SETON 

How many boys of ten years of age know what they 
want to do when they are grown? Surely there are some 
boys of that age who have planned their future work or 
at least have dreamed about it. But how many ever 
do in later life just what they had thought of doing whea 
in the fourth grade of the public school? Not many^ 
you may be sure. However, some years ago there was 
a boy living in England who had decided on his life work 
by the time his tenth birthday passed. What is more, 
he carried out his plans with great success. Today you 
may read many of his books and look at interesting 
pictures he has drawn of wild animals that are as familiar 
to him as are the pets most boys and girls have in their 
homes. More than this, if a boy belongs to the Boy 
Scouts, he is a member of an organization that this man 
helped to found in the United States. 

Ernest Thompson Seton was born in the northern 
part of England. His family moved to Canada, but he 
attended school in England and did not stay in America 
for any length of time until his schooling was completed. 
His name was originally Ernest E. Thompson Seton> 
but some years ago he changed it by turning the last two 
names around and putting a hyphen between them. As 
he has written under both names, persons sometimes 
wonder if there are two men who love the out of doors 
and write with pleasure of their open air experiences. 

187 



188 MODERN AMERICANS 

Mr. Thompson Seton's wish was to spend a large 
part of his life tramping over the country studying 
animals and learning woodcraft. The rest of the time he 
would write and make pictures of what he had seen. 
He felt he could stay within doors only part of each year. 
So as soon as he finished school and returned to the 
province of Manitoba he went to work in the fields. It 
■did not take him long to earn enough money to live on 
during the winter, as his wants were few; then he set out 
to tramp all over the province. He watched the birds; 
he learned the ways of all the animals and could tell 
wonderful stories of their instinct and cunning. When 
he did live under a roof for a few weeks, he was always 
busy drawing pictures of his friends in the open or writ- 
ing down accounts of their lives. One of his best known 
books was published in 1898 and was called, "Wild 
Animals I Have Known." This brought him to the 
attention of many readers; but he had been helping make 
books long before this one, for when the Century Dic- 
tionary was published he drew for it more than a thousand 
pictures of the animals that he had watched and studied. 

In the course of his life he has been a hunter, a day 
laborer, a scientist, a naturalist, and an artist. At the 
same time he has been able to carry out his plan of spend- 
ing the greater part of each year out of doors. Loving 
a free active life from his earliest boyhood, it is not strange 
that Ernest Thompson Seton was the first man to 
organize the Boy Scouts in America. In the Outlook 



ERNEST SETON-THOMPSON 189 

for July 23, 191 o, he tells the story in a most interesting 
manner. He says: 

"My friend John Moale, a rich man, had bought 
several thousand acres of abandoned farm lands near 
Boston in the year 1900. This he made into a beautiful 
park, all for his own enjoyment. Around this park he 
built a strong fence twelve feet high so that no one 
could get into the park. His prospects of peace and 
happiness were excellent. But the neighbors resented 
his coming. He had fenced in a lot of open ground that 
had been the common cow-pasture of the adjoining 
village. He had taken from the boys their nutting- 
ground, and forbidden the usual summer picnics. He 
was an outsider, a rich man despoiling the very poor, and 
they set about making it unpleasant for him. 

"They destroyed his fences, they stoned his notice- 
boards until they fell, and they painted shocking pictures 
on his gates. Mr. Moale, a peace-loving man, rebuilt the 
fences and restored the notice boards only to have them 
torn down again and again. 

"All summer this had been going on, so I learned on 
visiting Mr. Moale in September. Finally I said to him: 
'Let me try my hand on these boys.' He was ready for 
anything, and gave me a free hand. I bought two tents, 
three old Indian teepees, and two canoes. I got some 
bows and arrows and a target. 

"Then I got a gang of men to make a camp- 
ground by the lake on my friend's grounds. On this 



190 MODERN AMERICANS 

I set up the tents and teepees In the form of an Indian 
village. 

"Now I went to the local school house and got per- 
mission to talk to the boys for five minutes. 'Now 
boys,' I said, 'Mr. Moale invites you all to come to the 
Indian village on his land next Friday, after school, to 
camp with him there until Monday morning. We will 
have all the grub you can eat, all the canoes necessary, 
and everything to have a jolly time in camp.' 

"At first the boys were bashful and suspicious, but 
finally they accepted the invitation, and at 4:30 forty- 
two boys arrived in high glee. 

" 'Say, Mister, kin we holler.?' 

" 'Yes, all you want to.' 

" 'Kin we take our clothes off?' 

"As the weather was warm I said, 'Yes, every stitch, 
if you like.' And soon they were a mob of naked, howl- 
ing savages, tearing through the woods, jumping into the 
lake, or pelting each other with mud." 

After supper, Mr. Thompson Seton tells us, the boys 
gathered around the camp fire while he told them one 
Indian story after another. For two days the boys ate, 
swam, canoed, and, what was most important of all, they 
became acquainted with the two men. There was no 
harm done the boats, teepees, or outfit other than fair 
wear and tear during that camping, and before it was 
over Mr. Moale, instead of having a gang of bandits to 
combat the year round, had now a guard of staunch 



ERNEST SETON-TKOMPSON 191 

friends, ready to fight his battles and look out for his 
interests when he was away. 

That was the beginning of it. Every boy in the 
village is now a member of the tribe, and three other 
bands have been formed in the neighborhood. All this 
was in 1900. Since then thousands of workers have 
become interested and the work has spread, until today 
the Boy Scouts of America is one of the best known 
organizations of the country. 

One reason for the growth of the Boy Scout move- 
ment is the fact that scouting usually makes boys cleaner 
and more manly than they were before. Should you 
like to know the Scout Laws that they learn and pra:- 
tice.^ The first law is this: ''^A scout is trustworthy.'*^ 
This means a scout's honor is to be trusted. Boy Scouts 
everywhere make a great deal of the word honor. The 
following story shows the scout's idea of honor: "A little 
newsboy boarded a crowded car the other night with a 
very large bundle of papers, and the conductor, with 
coarse good-nature, tried to favor him by not taking his 
fare, although of course he could not do this without 
cheating the railway. The boy looked at him with indig- 
nation, and could not believe that he was the conductor. 
He went all through the car hunting for the real conductor 
to whom he might pay his fare." 

"y^ scout is loyal^'' is the second law. Loyalty is another 
word that is dear to the scout. Have you ever heard a 
scout say bad things about his scout master or about his 



192 MODERN AMERICANS 

fellow scouts behind their backs? Not very often, I am 
sure. If a scout has anything to say against any one, he 
goes directly to him and talks it over. The Scout Law- 
explains loyalty saying: "He is loyal to all to whom 
loyalty is due, his scout leader, his home and parents and 
country." He must stick to them through thick and 
thin against any one who is their enemy, or whoever 
talks badly of them. 

Have you ever seen the scouts salute the flag? The 
smiling faces and beaming eyes show that they love the 
flag dearly. Few can sing better than the scouts, for 
they mean every word they sing. 

The instant our nation entered the great world war 
the Boy Scouts offered themselves to their country to 
do whatever the president asked. Since most of them 
were too young to enlist, it was at first thought that they 
could not do much. As the months passed, however, 
the boys have found one task after another, until now 
they are so busy that they put to shame many older 
people. 

Then, too, the Boy Scouts have worked so silently, 
without making a fuss about what they were doing. In 
many of our large cities they have planted "war gardens" 
on every vacant lot they could get. In most cases all 
they raised in these gardens was given to the Red Cross. 
Furthermore, they have been the best friends the farmers 
have had. These scouts in large numbers have left their 
comfortable city homes to work on farms. They have 



ERNEST SETON-THOMPSON 193 

not asked for the easy, pleasant jobs, but have been 
wiUing to do the thing that needed to be done most 
whether it was pleasant or not. Have you ever wondered 
who put up the thousands of posters asking the people 
to save food and buy bonds? In many cases this work 
has been done by the scouts. 

The Boy Scout has been able to do so much because he 
is taught to be brave. The coward has no place among 
the scouts. The lad who is not willing to rough it soon 
drops out. Long hikes, coarse food, and hard work try 
the stuff that's in a boy. If he can stand up to all these 
he is sure to develop the endurance that makes him brave. 

As soon as the war began, the educated young men of 
our country went to the officers' training camps to learn 
to become officers. After thousands of these young men 
who had tried to become officers had failed, the people 
began to wonder what the trouble was. Finally they 
asked the great army officers who had examined them, 
and received this answer: "Your young men are slouchy; 
slouchy in the way they hold their shoulders, slouchy In 
the way they walk, slouchy in their use of the English 
language, slouchy in the way they think." Should you 
like to know how the young men who had once been 
scouts fared? Almost without exception they passed, 
for the training they had received as scouts had cured 
them of much of their slouchiness. 

A scout is not only brave but he is also courteous and 
helpful to others. Nothing delights a scout more than 



194 MODERN AMERICANS 

to be able to help a child or an old man or woman across 
a busy street. For these little services he must not 
receive tips. Major Powell, the great English Scout 
organizer, tells of a little fellow who came to his house 
on an errand. When offered a tip the lad put up his 
hand to the salute and said, "No, thank you, sir, I am 
a Boy Scout." 

About the hardest thing a scout Is expected to do Is 
to smile and whistle under all circumstances. "The 
punishment for swearing or using bad language is, for 
each offense, a mug of cold cold water poured down the 
offender's sleeves by the other scouts." 

Much more could be written In favor of the Boy 
Scouts. They are a body of boys of w'aom we are proud. 
And we shall ever be grateful to Ernest Thompson Seton 
for his noble work in organizing the Boy Scouts In 
America. 



''Be Prepared'' 



JOHN WANAMAKER 

It was a stormy, rainy day in New York City. We 
wanted to visit some of the great stores and shops, but 
were afraid of the bad weather. 

Our friends who lived in the city laughed at us. They 
said : *'This is just the kind of a day to go to Wanamakers. 
We will take the subway to the basement door and never 
be in the wet at all." 

So we hurried to the underground railroad that runs 
beneath the busy streets, and were soon riding away in a 
fast express train. On we went in the darkness, through 
winding tunnels to the other end of the city. At last 
we stopped at a brilliantly lighted platform and were 
told that this was our destination. Leaving the train we 
did not ascend to the street, but went through great doors 
into a large room that was as light as day. Elevators 
took us up, up, from floor to floor. And what did we 
see, I hear you ask. We saw everything one could wish 
to buy. We saw everything we had ever dreamed of 
purchasing. We saw many beautiful things of which 
we had never heard, and we felt as if we were visiting a 
magic palace. 

At noon we ate our lunch in a pleasant restaurant up 
at the very top of the enormous building. It was quiet 
and peaceful, and we were glad to rest. When we were 
through, we found an attractive little concert hall where 
many persons were listening to a deep-toned organ. 

195 




Photograph from Underwood 6* Underwood, N, Y, 



JOHN WANAMAKER (On left) 
Great Merchant and Philanthropist 



JOHN WANAMAKER 197 

We were told we were welcome to sit down and hear the 
sweet music. An hour passed before we were ready to 
leave. Then we continued our sightseeing, and it was 
late in the afternoon before we were ready to go home. 
We returned the same way we had come and when we were 
once more far up town in our own familiar street the rain 
had just stopped. Then we realized we had been in doors 
all day long and known nothing of the storm. It had 
Indeed been just the kind of a day to go to Wanamakers. 

And what is Wanamakers? It is the name of two 
great stores, one in New York City and the other in 
Philadelphia. The owner, John Wanamaker, is the man 
who first thought of selling all manner of articles in one 
store, and so built what we call today a department store. 

No one who knew John Wanamaker when he was a 
boy thought he had any better chances than any other 
boy among his playmates, and no one foretold that he 
would become a great merchant. 

A plain two story house in Philadelphia was his early 
home. There he lived with his father and mother. His 
father was a brick maker, and while John was very small 
he would help his father by turning the bricks over so 
they would dry evenly. His father died in 1852. John 
was just fourteen, and he went to work in a book store. 
His wages were ^1.50 a week, but he managed to save 
a little. His mother encouraged him and he says of her, 
"Her smile was a bit of heaven and it never faded out of 
her face till her dying day." 



198 MODERN AMERICANS 

Although at first the boy earned but little to help this 
good mother, he soon was able to care for her in a way 
beyond his highest hopes. 

What caused him to succeed? His capital! "But," 
you say, "he had no money; he was poor." True, his 
capital was not money. Let us see what it was. A 
few words will tell us. He had good health, good habits, 
a clean mind, thriftiness, and a tireless devotion to what- 
ever he thought to be his duty. 

He worked hard outside of business hours, improv- 
ing himself for any opportunity that might come. And 
one came when he was twenty-one years of age. 

The directors of the Philadelphia Y. M. C. A. were 
looking for a young man to become Secretary of the 
Association. They were anxious to secure an earnest 
energetic person who would make a great success, for it 
was the first time that such a position as Y. M. C. A. 
secretary had been established. They selected John 
Wanamaker and paid him ^i,ooo a year. 

He went to work with a will, and everyone felt that 
he more than earned his salary. All the time he was 
saving, just as he had been doing when he worked in the 
book store. He had great hopes and plans. When he 
had saved ^2000 he and a friend of his own age started a 
business of their own. Their store was named Oak 
Hall and they sold men's clothing. At that time business 
houses did not advertise in the newspapers as they do 
today. Neither were signboards used. Just imagine 



JOHN WANAMAKER 199 

how puzzled the good folk of Philadelphia were when, 
one morning, they saw great billboards all over their 
peaceful city. On these were two letters, W. & B. No 
one knew what these letters meant. Everyone was 
guessing, and it was not until Oak Hall was opened that 
the public learned that W. & B. stood for Wanamaker 
& Brown, the name of the new firm. 

Their first day's business brought in thirty-eight 
dollars. John Wanamaker himself delivered the goods 
in a wheel barrow. Then he hurried to a newspaper office 
and spent the entire thirty-eight dollars for advertising. 
After reading of the wonderful goods on sale there, cus- 
tomers poured into Oak Hall. They bought, too, for 
again John Wanamaker had spent his money wisely. 
He had hired the highest paid clerk in Philadelphia to 
manage the sales room, which meant that each customer 
was waited upon well and went away pleased, ready to 
tell his friends about the new store. 

What do you suppose was told the oftenest.^ Prob- 
ably you would not guess, because today all business 
houses have followed the plan that was used first in Oak 
Hall. 

You will be surprised when you hear that it was the 
custom of having one price for a garment and sticking 
to it that caused the most talk. This price was marked 
plainly on a tag attached to the article to be sold, and 
any one could see it. Before this, clothing merchants 
had not marked their goods, but tried to get as much as 



200 MODERN AMERICANS 

possible from a customer. Often one suit of clothes had 
a dozen prices on the same day. So you can see what a 
change the energetic young man made. He did more 
than this. Because he wanted to please the public, he 
said if any customer was not satisfied he could return his 
purchase and receive his money back. This was a 
startling idea, but it worked, and made many friends for 
the young firm. 

Their store waked up Philadelphia. Every week 
some new advertising appeared. Once great balloons 
were sent up from the roof. Stamped on each one was 
the statement that any one who found the balloon and 
returned it to Oak Hall would receive a suit of clothes. 
You can imagine how the people hunted for those 
balloons. One was found five months afterward in a 
cranberry swamp. The frightened farmer who saw it 
swaying to and fro thought at first that some strange 
animal was hiding there. You may be sure he was glad 
to hurry to Oak Hall with his prize and get the promised 
suit of clothes. 

John Wanamaker kept on economizing and saving, 
for he wanted a bigger business. Then the idea came to 
him of selling many kinds of goods under one roof, 
and the modern department store was born. The 
store, though small at first, gradually grew until it 
finally became the largest in Philadelphia. Then it 
was that he decided to build an even larger one in New 
York City. 



JOHN WANAMAKER 201 

Today there are department stores throughout our 
country in every city and town. We like them and take 
them as a matter of course. But let us remember they 
hadtheirbeginningintheideaofthisboyfromPhiladelphia. 

His success looks very great to us, but it was built up 
step by step. He says it is due "to thinking, toiling, and 
trusting in God." This seems to sum up his life. Be- 
sides business, his interest in religious affairs has always 
been great. He has given of his wealth to many noble 
charities and helpful organizations. In Philadelphia he 
built a great building for a Sunday School alone. Thou- 
sands of persons attend this school each Sunday and 
there are classes there during the week for those who 
have had to leave school at an early age. He has remem- 
bered the Y. M. C. A. and, perhaps because of his early 
work with it, has been unusually generous in giving 
buildings to struggling associations. He even built 
one in the far away city of Madras, India, thus stretch- 
ing out his influence for good nearly around the world. 

But while he has had thought for those far away, 
he has also cared for the people who work for him. His 
stores were the first to have an entire holiday on Satur- 
day during the hot days of summer. This was done so 
the men and women could leave the crowded city, if 
they wished, on Friday evening, and have a vacation of 
two full days in the country or at the seashore. 

Then, too, he has encouraged the various departments 
of the stores to form clubs and musical societies. At 



202 MODERN AMERICANS 

times there have been two bands in the New York store, 
one composed of men and the other of women. They 
have rooms and hours in which to practice. 

Besides playing and singing, some of the clubs study 
English, foreign languages, and many other subjects. 
It is possible for every person employed in one of the 
Wanamaker stores to add to his stock of knowledge 
through this club life. 

Some years ago John Wanamaker began giving a 
pension to those who had served him for a certain length 
of time. This plan has since been followed by other 
firms because it promotes faithfulness and interest in 
the business. 

This interest makes each one connected with the 
store realize he is a part of it. Perhaps this is shown best 
by the way pensioned men and women responded to Mr. 
Wanamaker's call in 1917, after so many men had left to 
join the army and navy. They went back to take the 
places of those who had gone, feeling that in so doing 
they were serving their country. 

There was one fine old Scotchman past eighty years of 
age living in New York who had been forty-four years in 
the employ of Wanamaker. He had been on the pension 
roll for some time and was enjoying old age quietly. 
When he heard the call from his former employer, he 
went down to work as eagerly as a boy, glad he was 
strong and sturdy enough to do his part in keeping the 
great store open to serve the public. 



JOHN WANAMAKER 203 

Is it not 8 fine thing to be able to develop such spirit 
and energy among thousands of persons? Surely the 
mother of the boy who turned bricks for his father would 
rejoice if she could read her son's record. He has become 
one of the greatest business men of his day; he served our 
country well as Postmaster General but most of all he 
has given each year more and more time and money to 
help make the world better. 

Can we not say of him that, while he has always 
recognized that the object of business is to make money 
in an honorable way, he has tried to remember that the 
object of life is to do good? 



"And the star-spangled banner 

In triumph shall wave 

O^er the land of the free 

And the home of the brave. ^^ 

— Francis Scott Key. 




Photograph f>om Underwood &° Underwood, N. F. 



EX-PRESIDENT WOODROW WILSON 



WOODROW WILSON 

Thomas Woodrow Wilson was born at Staunton, Vir- 
ginia, December 28, 1856. At that time Staunton was 
a town of five thousand inhabitants, situated in the beau- 
tiful and famous Valley of Virginia. Woodrow's father, 
a thoroughly trained and able preacher, was pastor of 
the Southern Presbyterian Church of the city. 

When Woodrow was two years of age the family 
moved to Augusta, Georgia. In those days Augusta, a 
city of fifteen thousand people, was one of the leading 
manufacturing cities of the South. With its great rail- 
road shops, furnaces, rolling mills, and cotton mills, it 
was indeed a hive of industry. 

As a boy Woodrow was called "Tommy" by his play- 
mates; but as he grew into manhood he dropped his given 
name and signed himself — ^Woodrow Wilson. His mother 
was a Woodrow, and by signing his name Woodrow 
Wilson he hoped to do equal honor to each parent. 

During Woodrow's boyhood days, the Civil War 
storm-cloud was gathering; and when he was five years 
of age it broke in all its fury. Fortunately for him, 
Augusta was far removed from the scenes of conflict. 
Never can he remember having seen troops of southern 
soldiers marching through the streets of the city. Only 
once was he thoroughly frightened. When General 
Sherman was on his famous march to the sea, word came 
that he was about to capture Augusta. Immediately the 

205 



206 MODERN AMERICANS 

few men who were left in the city, for most of them 
had gone to war, gathered all sorts of fire arms and 
marched forth to meet the enemy. All night they 
lay on their arms, but greatly to their relief the foe 
never came. 

Naturally enough the most vivid memories young 
Woodrow had of the war were those in connection with 
the scarcity of food. Before the war the people of the 
South had never thought of eating cow peas, as they were 
thought to be fit only for cattle; but so scarce did food 
become that Woodrow had to eat so much cow pea soup 
that even yet, whenever he thinks of it, he feels the old 
time disgust. 

Two things that happened immediately at the close 
of the war made a deep impression upon the lad who was 
then nine years of age. All through the war the pres- 
ident of the Southern Confederacy was, as you know, 
Jefferson Davis. Imagine young Woodrow's surprise 
when he saw the former president marched through the 
streets of Augusta, a prisoner of war, guarded by Federal 
soldiers. They were on their way to Fortress Monroe. 
During the war Woodrow, as we have already said, saw 
very little of the Confederate soldiers; but as soon as 
peace was declared, the Union soldiers took possession of 
the city, even occupying his father's church as a tempo- 
rary barracks. The hardships suffered during the few 
years immediately at the close of the war were even 
greater than those during the war itself. 



WOODROW WILSON 207 

A thrilling event in the life of the lad was the day 
when Augusta had its first street cars. The bob-tail cars, 
with their red, purple, and green lights, and drawn, by 
mules, afforded all sorts of fun for the boys. To make 
scissors by laying two pins crosswise on the rail for the 
cars to pass over was one of their most pleasant pastimes. 

In those days there were no free public schools with 
their beautiful buildings for Woodrow to attend, so he 
was sent to a private school that was held in rooms over 
the post office. With Professor Derry, who was in charge 
of the school, spanking was the favorite form of punish- 
ment. While Woodrow and his chums differed very 
decidedly with the Professor's views regarding spanking, 
the boys were never able to convince him that their views 
were right. Finally, the lads discovered that pads made 
from the cotton that grew in the fields on every side of 
the city served them well whenever the evil day of pun- 
ishment arrived. After they had made this discovery 
they were more reconciled to the Professor's views. 

The best chum Woodrow had was his father. Busy 
as he was with the cares of his large church, he never was 
so occupied that he could not find time to chum with his 
boy. For hours at a time he would read to his son the 
worth-while things that Woodrow enjoyed hearing. Then, 
too, the busy pastor was in the habit of taking a day off 
each week to stroll with Woodrow in field, factory, or 
wood as the case might be. On these long strolls the 
father and son talked over many of the problems that 



208 MODERN AMERICANS 

were of interest to the lad. Little wonder, then, with 
such comradeship, that Woodrow rapidly developed along 
right lines. 

Like all boys, he v/as fond of building air castles. 
Dwelling much in the realm of fancy, he imagined that 
he occupied all sorts of positions and did remarkable 
things. 

Mr. William Hale in his excellent story of the life of 
Wilson describes one of these flights of the imagination 
as follows: "Thus for months he was an Admiral of the 
Navy, and in that character wrote out daily reports to 
the Navy Department. 

"His main achievement in this capacity was the dis- 
covery and destruction of a nest of pirates in the Southern 
Pacific Ocean. It appears that the government, along 
with all the people of the country, had been terrified by 
the mysterious disappearance of ships setting sail from or 
expected at our western ports. Vessels would set out 
with their precious freight never to be heard from again, 
swallowed up in the bosom of an ocean on which no 
known war raged, no known storm swept. 

"Admiral Wilson was ordered to investigate with his 
fleet; after an eventful cruise they overtook, one night, a 
piratical looking craft with black hull and rakish rig. 
Again and again the chase eluded the Admiral. Finally, 
the pursuit led the fleet to the neighborhood of an island 
uncharted and hitherto unknown. Circumnavigation 
seemed to prove it bare and uninhabited, with no visible 



WOODROW WILSON 209 

harbor. There was, however, a narrow inlet that seemed 
to end at an abrupt wall of rock a few fathoms inland. 
Something, however, finally led the Admiral to send a 
boat into this inlet — and it was discovered that it was 
the cunningly contrived entrance to a spacious bay; the 
island really being a sort of atoll. Here lay the ships of 
the outlawed enemy and the dismantled hulls of many 
of the ships they had captured. And it may be believed 
that the brave American tars, under the leadership of 
the courageous Admiral, played a truly heroic part in 
the destruction of the pirates and the succor of such of 
their victims as survived." 

Thus he dreamed dreams, studied, and chummed with 
his father until the eventful day arrived when he must 
go away to college. But where should he go.^* What 
college should he attend ^ A small Presbyterian col- 
lege in the South was chosen. Before the end of the first 
year he was taken sick and had to leave college. Then 
it was that he decided to go to Princeton University, a 
decision that had much to do with his future career. 
Life in Princeton proved to be just the stimulus that he 
needed. Here, surrounded by the keenest, most alert 
young men of the country, he developed rapidly. Inter- 
ested in every school activity, from baseball to debating, 
he won for himself a prominent place in the student body. 
So great was his thirst for knowledge, however, that his 
graduation from Princeton did not satisfy him. Accord- 
ingly, he next went to the University of Virginia where 



210 MODERN AMERICANS 

he was graduated from the law school in 1881. But 
even this did not satisfy, so he spent two years in Johns 
Hopkins University, receiving in 1885 the degree of 
Ph.D., the highest degree that any university can give. 

Thus equipped, he became a professor first in Bryn 
Mawr College, then in Wesleyan University, and finally 
in Princeton. So pronounced was his success as professor 
in his beloved university that in 1902 he was made Pres- 
ident of Princeton. So able was his leadership in Prince- 
ton that the state of New Jersey called him to be its 
governor. Could a University President make a good 
governor.? The politicians were very much in doubt. 
It is needless to say that all watched him with deepest 
concern. Soon, however, it became apparent even to 
the most skeptical that he was destined to be New 
Jersey's ablest governor. Gradually, because of his 
strength, his popularity grew until the eyes of all the 
nation were fastened upon him. From the governor's 
chair he rose to the highest honor the Nation could be- 
stow, he was elected to the Presidency of the United 
States. 

Little did he realize when he accepted this honor that 
with it would come the heaviest burdens that any pres- 
ident save Abraham Lincoln had been called upon to bear. 
For eight long years he patiently bore those burdens and 
heroically faced every responsibility. Great as were the 
demands made upon him, he always proved himself 
equal to the emergency. 



WOODROW WILSON 211 

The last three years of his service as President found 
him deahng with problems of the Great World War, and 
at its conclusion he was one of the leading figures in the 
making of the final treaty of peace between the warring 
nations. 

To take part in the treaty-making, Mr. Wilson twice 
went to Paris. It was the first time a president of the 
United States had ever traveled beyond the borders of 
our own country. 

At the expiration of his term of office, Mr. Wilson took 
up the practice of law, at Washington. 



"7*0 such a task we dedicate our lives and our j or tunes, 

everything that we are and everything that we have, with 

the pride of those who know that the day has come when 

America is privileged to spend her blood and her might for 

the principles that gave her birth and happiness and the 

peace which she has treasured. God helping her, she can 

do no other^ 

— President Wilson's War Message. 




© 



MARK TWAIN 
(Samuel Langhorne Clemens) 



MARK TWAIN 

"Talk about trying to cure warts with spunk water. 
You got to go all by yourself, to the middle of the woods, 
where you know there's a spunk-water stump, and just 
as it's midnight you back up against the stump and jam 
your hand in it and say: 

"Barley-corn, Barley-corn, Injun meal shorts, 

"Spunk-water, spunk-water, swaller these warts," 
and then walk away quick eleven steps, with your eyes 
shut and then turn round three times and walk home with- 
out speaking to anybody. Because if you do speak, the 
charm's busted. 

"I've took off thousands of warts that way, Huck. I 
play with frogs so much that I've always got considerable 
warts. Sometimes I take 'em off with a bean." 

"Yes, a bean's good. I've done that." 

"But say, Huck, how do you cure 'em with dead cats ?" 

By this time, doubtless you are saying, "Oh, I know 

from what book you are quoting. I have Tom Sawyer 

at home and Huckleberry Finn, too. I read them over 

and over." 

But would you not like to know something about the 
man, who could write so understanding^ of boys? 
Suppose we read the story of his life and see if we can 
decide what gave him his wide knowledge of games and 
adventures, of boyish larks and youthful troubles. 

213 



214 MODERN AMERICANS 

We must go for his earliest experiences to a town on 
the Mississippi, one hundred miles from St. Louis. In the 
year 1839, the Clemens family moved to Hannibal from 
a still smaller town in Missouri, named Florida. The 
youngest child in the Clemens family was four years old. 
He was named Samuel Langhorne Clemens. For eight 
years this boy roved over the hills and through the woods 
with his playmates. There was a cave near Hannibal. 
Many strange creatures were said to hide in its depths. 
Also, there was Bear Creek where the boys went swim- 
ming. Young Sam tried hard to learn to swim. Several 
times he was dragged ashore just in time to save his life, but 
at last he learned to swim better than any of his friends. 

Then there was the river, the broad Mississippi. 

"It was the river that meant more to him than all the 
rest. Its charm was permanent. It was the path of 
adventure, the gateway to the world. The river with its 
islands, its great slow moving rafts, its marvelous steam- 
boats that were like fairyland, and its stately current 
going to the sea. How it held him! He would sit by it 
for hours and dream. He would venture out on it in a 
surreptitiously borrowed boat, when he was barely strong 
enough to lift an oar out of the water." 

We are told that when Sam Clemens was only nine 
years of age he managed to board one of the river steam- 
ers. He hid under a boat on the upper deck. After the 
steamer started he sat watching the shore slip past. 
Then came a heavy rain and a wet, shivering, little boy was 



MARK TWAIN 215 

found by one of the crew. At the next stop he was put 
ashore and relatives, who lived there, took him home, and 
so ended his first journey upon the river. 

Years later he became a pilot on a Mississippi river 
boat and made many trips from New Orleans up the river 
and back. Such a trip required thirty-iive days. 

While acting as a river pilot, Samuel Clemens heard 
the name, "Mark Twain." An old riverman had used it 
as an assumed name, taking the term from the cry of the 
boatmen as they tested the depth of the river. Samuel 
Clemens had an intense love of joking and fun, so when 
he first began to write, he suddenly thought it would be 
amusing to sign some name other than his own. There- 
fore, he signed his articles "Mark Twain." This name 
clung to him, and many persons forgot or never knew 
that his real name was Samuel Langhorne Clemens. 

Accordingly, in the river of his boyhood love, he found 
the name by which the world knows today one of the 
foremost American authors. Yet, in those early days in 
Hannibal, he had no idea of writing. Indeed, his days 
were so busy it is not likely he thought much of the future 
at all. He was the leader of a band of boys that played 
Bandit, Pirate and Indian. Sam Clemens was always 
chief. He led the way to the caves whose chambers 
reached far back under the cliffs and even, perhaps, under 
the river itself. 

When he was a man, Mr. Clemens wrote two books 
telling of these early days in Hannibal. "The Adventures 



216 MODERN AMERICANS 

of Tom Sawyer" and ''Huckleberry Finn." "Tom 
Sawyer" was himself, and the incidents in the book all 
had their foundation in the days of his boyhood. The 
cave, as you may know, plays an important part in the 
latter story. In *'Tom Sawyer," Indian Joe dies in the 
cave. There was an Indian Joe in Hannibal and while 
he did not die in the cave, he was lost there for days and 
was living on bats when found. This incident made a 
strong impression on young Samuel Clemens and he never 
forgot it. It was in the Clemen's house that Tom gave 
the cat pain-killer; there, too, that he induced a crowd of 
boys to white-wash the fence all one Saturday morning. 
It was at the Clemens' home, too, that a small boy in his 
night clothes came tumbling down from an over-hung 
trellis upon the merry crowd cooling taffy in the snow. 

Such happenings were part of young Sam's life. He 
lived the out-of-doors and, when grown to manhood, he 
could recall all the sports and pleasures of those days. 
He cherished the memory of his boyhood friends and so 
wrote of "Huck" Finn, making him like Tom Blakenship, 
one of the riotous, freedom-loving members of Sam 
Clemens' band. 

These boys crowded many adventures into a few years. 
Hannibal was the scene of stormy times. Black slaves 
were sold in the open market. Desperadoes roamed the 
streets. Lawlessness was everywhere and it was not 
strange that the residents of Hannibal did not think Sam 
Clemens amounted to much and prophesied that he would 



MARK TWAIN 217 

never grow up to follow a respectable calling. 

Yet when his father died, Sam went to work in his 
brother's printing shop. Printed matter began to interest 
him. Then one day, in the dusty street of Hannibal, this 
half-grown, lively boy picked up a scrap of paper. A leaf 
torn from a history! Where did it come from? No one 
knows. 

Books were not plentiful then in that little town. 
Yet, on this paper the fun-loving Sam Clemens read for 
the first time of Joan of Arc, the wondrous maid who led 
the French to victory. He had never heard of her. He 
had read no history, nor had he had an active interest in 
books. Studying there in the village street, reading the 
few lines of the marvelous story of the Maid of Orleans, 
there was created in him an interest that went with him 
throughout life. 

He was by turn a printer, a pilot, a pioneer, a soldier, 
a miner, a newspaper reporter, a lecturer, but at last he 
found his true place. He became a writer and wrote 
books that continue to delight thousands upon thousands 
of readers. His life went into his books. Just as he drew 
upon his early days in Hannibal for the material in 
"Huckleberry Finn" and The "Adventures of Tom 
Sawyer," so he used all of his experiences. He wrote 
"Life Upon The Mississippi," a record of his days as a 
pilot; "Roughing It," a story of a mining camp; "The 
Jumping Frog," a western story that made his fame 
throughout the United States; "Innocents Abroad," a 



218 MODERN AMERICANS 

tale of his experiences abroad, and "The Life Of Joan Of 
Arc," a beautiful story that was always the author's 
favorite. 

During the last years of his life, Mark Twain passed 
the winters in Bermuda and there he was, as ever, the 
friend of children. There was a pretty, little girl at 
his hotel named Margaret, who was twelve years old. 
She and Mr. Clemens wxnt everywhere together and, on 
one excursion, he found a beautiful, little shell. The two 
halves came apart in his hand. He gave one of them to 
Margaret and said, "Now dear, sometime or other in the 
future, I shall run across you somewhere, and it may turn 
out that it is not you at all, but will be some girl that only 
resembles you. I shall be saying to myself, "I know that 
this is Margaret by the look of her, but I don't know for 
sure whether this is my Margaret or somebody else's ; but, 
no matter, I can soon find out, for I shall take my half shell 
out of my packet and say, "I think you are my Margaret, 
but I am not certain; if you are my Margaret you can 
produce the other half of the shell." 

After that Margaret played the new game often and 
she tried to catch him without his half of the shell, but 
Mark Twain writes, "I always defeated that game, where- 
fore, she came to recognize, at last, that I was not only 
old, but very smart." 

Mark Twain had lived 74 years when the close of his 
life here came April 20, 1910, in Redding, Connecticut. 
Once he wrote in one of his humorous moments, "Let us 



MARK TWAIN 219 

endeavor so to live that when we come to die even the 
undertaker will be sorry." When his life here ended, 
tributes were received from every land. He was mourned 
as few men have ever been. Why.^ Because he knew 
people; he loved them and interested them. Because, in 
his most famous days he still remained at heart the boy 
who played beside the river and loved the surging, restless 
flow of the mighty current. 



220 MODERN AMERICANS 



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Note: The following pages are intended for a record of additional facts 
concerning the lives of these eminent Americans. 



MODERN AMERICANS 221 

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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




